


Dreaming in Color

by leelee202



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-01-27 01:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 209,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21383638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leelee202/pseuds/leelee202
Summary: Thirty year old Lauren Ward wakes up to find herself in the magical world of Harry Potter, but she's stuck in her eleven year old body. Not only does she have to redo school all over again, but she also has to learn magic and all that entails being a witch. A grudging friendship is struck up between Professor and student, which evolves into romance in eventual years.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 427
Kudos: 765





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first venture into writing a Harry Potter fanfic, so here's hoping I do it justice.
> 
> This story basically follows the OC's POV as she is thrown into the fictional world of Harry Potter and has to learn from scratch everything about magic and being a witch. There will be an eventual romance with none other than Severus Snape, but for now the story is rated M for language - Lauren has a potty mouth :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new venture with me :) Here goes...

Lauren Ward slammed the door shut to her tiny apartment, the sound reverberating jarringly throughout the interior, and leaned against the unyielding wooden door as she breathed in deeply, willing her temper to cool.

“Goddamn you, Deacon,” she growled, hot tears springing unbidden to her eyes.

Pushing herself away from the door, she made her way to her living room, absently kicking her sensible heels off and swiping angrily at her eyes to ward off the tears that threatened to spill.

“Goddamn you to hell,” she repeated as she slumped heavily on her threadbare, but comfy sofa. She stared mulishly at the blank T.V screen, unable to will up the energy to flick it on and surf some channels to distract her, anything to make her forget the phone call she had just had with her boyfriend.

_Ex-boyfriend, _she corrected sourly. _Honestly, who dumps their girlfriend over the phone? The answer would be Deacon, that’s who._

She rubbed tiredly at her face and sighed heavily. She was angry, though pissed off was the best phrase to describe her current mood. But what had transpired was hardly surprising. Their relationship had been of one that consisted of many ups and downs.

_More downs than ups, _she admitted to herself.

And, truthfully, she hadn’t been happy for quite some time. The only reason she had stuck it out was because it was familiar. The constant game of fighting and breaking up, and then the making up followed by the brief period of lovey dovey happiness. It had become routine.

She was smart enough to know it was a toxic relationship and had been looking for a way out for some time now, and today had finally been the last straw. Especially after that phone call.

_Well, it’s over now. Time to finally move on, _she thought with determination.

Deacon must have realized that she was deadly serious this time and there would be no coming back this time, for he quickly changed his tune. But she had had enough and did not back down. No, she had finally found the courage to move on.

Lauren heaved herself off the couch and padded to the kitchen, grabbing a chilled bottle of wine from the fridge.

_Perfect time to get sloshed and forget that asshole, _she mused as she uncorked the bottle.

Settling herself in front of the television and drinking straight from the bottle, Lauren flicked through the channels, finally settling on a cheesy romcom.

_Ahh shit. I really need to get out more, _she deliberated peevishly, but still didn’t drag her attention away from the movie, where the guy was predictably declaring his undying love to the woman who had been under his nose the whole time – he only been too blind to see it.

Lauren rolled her eyes dramatically and took another swig from her bottle, feeling the heady effects of the alcohol. It was working wonders and going straight to her head.

_Maybe I should order something to eat to help sober up. _After a pause, she mentally shrugged off that thought. _Nah, _and she proceeded to take another long gulp from the bottle.

Two hours later she was blissfully passed out in front of the telly, completely oblivious to the world around her.

So oblivious, in fact, that she did not hear the key in lock, nor did she hear the door creak. Nor did she sense the dark figure stalk into the room and loom over her as he studied her with hatred burning in his soulless eyes.

A few moments ticked by and Lauren stirred, sensing something was amiss. She blinked heavily, blearily making out the figure of a man standing over her. A very familiar man.

Her eyes widened in fear but before she could open her mouth to scream, something swung down at her head, sending her into pitch black oblivion.

ooOoo

Lauren groaned, her entire body aching and her head pounding incessantly.

_Bloody hell! That’s one hell of a hangover. Maybe I overdid it with the wine…_

Her eyes felt like they were made of lead, unwilling to open.

_Yup, too much cheap wine. That stuff’s bloody potent!_

Her senses were slowly starting to come to life and the first thing she noticed was that she seemed to be lying on a hard, stone floor. She was definitely not in her carpeted living room or on her sofa, where she was sure she had passed out.

_What the…_

Her other senses were starting awakening, and the second thing that pierced her awareness was the sound of murmurs and whisperings. And by the sounds of it, it belonged to a rather large crowd.

_Did I, in my drunken state, decided to go gallivanting and end up somewhere else? It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened…_

The murmurings were steadily growing louder, or maybe it was because she was just starting to fully wake up.

_Oh, enough of this! Where the hell did I end up?_

Lauren slowly opened her eyes.

And what she saw made no sense.

_Are those…floating candles?_

She frowned. _No, that can’t be. I must still be bloody drunk!_

She blinked again.

_Nope, candles are still there. What the hell? Is this some kind of trick?_

Her frown deepened, resembling more of a menacing scowl. The murmurs were still flooding her sense, but she could not pick out anything intelligible in what was being discussed.

She sensed a sweeping movement nearing her and slowly turned her head to the side. The murmurings halted, much to her relief. But her relief was short lived.

She now found herself staring into a see of curious faces of children, all seated on long benches and wearing peculiar black cloaks. Some were craning their necks to get a better look at her, while others leaned back far enough in their seats to witness what was unravelling before them.

Something rustled beside her and she slowly turned her head in the direction of the movement. Her eyes locked with a pair of twinkling and piercing blue eyes of an old man who was crouched beside her; eyes that were framed by half-moon spectacles. The rest of his features were hidden by his impressively long white beard and equally long hair, though this did nothing to distract from his spectacularly crooked nose.

_Wait…you look familiar, _her foggy mind supplied, rather uselessly.

He gave her a kind, almost grandfatherly smile, but it did little to ease the apprehension she suddenly felt.

_Something’s wrong. Very wrong._

“Hello, my dear. You gave us all quite a fright,” he said, his voice a low and pleasant rumble; a voice meant to sooth and calm troubled souls and draw them into a sense of security.

She blinked up uncomprehendingly at him.

He continued in his calm tone, almost as though it were nothing unusual for him to converse with another person while they lay flat on their backs on a hard, stone floors.

“May I enquire who you are?”

Lauren swallowed thickly. She opened her mouth to answer and had to cough to clear her parchment dry throat when nothing but a croak came out.

“Lauren. Lauren Ward,” she finally managed.

The old man smiled down beatifically at her and once again she was struck with the thought that she knew him from somewhere.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Ward. And may I enquire as to how you managed to appear in the Great Hall? Quite spectacularly, I might add.”

She frowned hard at him, trying to focus her mind enough to make sense of the situation. It didn’t help that her headache was trying to pound its way out of her skull like a jackhammer.

“I…I don’t know.” Lauren struggled to sit up, and a long-fingered hand at her back offered the aid she needed. She sat there on the cold floor, well aware of all the eyes of the children trained on her like a target, but she was only focused on the grandfather figure in front of her. The world had only narrowed down to the two of them.

She stared at him, willing him to believe the truth of her words, feeling close to tears in her confusion.

And then suddenly, the pieces fell into place, slotting neatly in her head.

Her head whipped back to the fresh-faced children, noting that each row wore a different colored emblem on the breast of their black robes. 

_No…but that means…_

Her head whipped back to the man crouched beside her, who was staring keenly at her, his true thoughts hidden behind his calm and relaxed façade.

A slight movement behind him caught her attention and her attention was drawn to the dark figure swathed all in billowing black. There was no mistaking the hooked nose, glinting obsidian eyes that seemed to burrow deep into her soul, searching out her darkest secrets, nor the inky black hair that framed his pale features.

_Severus Snape._

She swallowed hard, reality crashing down hard on her.

She tore her gaze from the formidable figure the Half-Blood Prince cut and turned once more to the aged man, whom she now realized was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

“Where am I?” she asked, already knowing, but dreading the answer.

A slight frown crinkled his brows at her question, almost as though the answer should have been obvious to her. It was now, but she really needed confirmation before she freaked out.

“You’re at Hogwarts, Miss Ward.”

A harsh hiss escaped her lips and she closed her eyes tightly, willing this all to be a bad dream.

_Breathe deeply, Lauren. Calm down. Maybe when you open your eyes, you’ll be back in your apartment and this will all turn out to be a dream. No, a nightmare. Hush! Now, count to three and open your eyes._

_1…2…3…_

She slowly opened her eyes, only to find that this was not a dream and she was very much in Hogwarts. She was in the fictional world of Harry Potter.

“Fuck,” she cursed softly.


	2. Chapter 2

If Dumbledore was affronted by her rather impassioned use of a curse word, he did not show it, though Lauren was vaguely aware of the stunned hush that swept through the room. She was too in shock to feel any sort of embarrassment of using such a word in front of a crowd of children, though her stunned brain did caution her to try and reign in her sailor tongue.

Out of the corner of her eye, though, she thought she saw Professor McGonagall purse her thin lips in disapproval.

“I think we should go someplace more private to discuss matters,” Dumbledore murmured, his voice low so that only she heard him.

She nodded numbly, barely noticing him helping her to her feet. He kept his grasp firm on her upper arm; a fact she was grateful for, because when she made her first step her knees almost buckled beneath her.

_Goddamn. Everything hurts, _she mused, noting the dull aches and pains rippling through her body. _What the hell happened?_

Dumbledore walked her down the aisle and she felt every pair of eyes of the students watching her progression, their curious whisperings starting up again when she passed them by.

They made their way up a few flight of stairs and then down some stone corridors, more whisperings and shuffling following in their wake. Lauren suddenly realized that it was the portraits now gossiping amongst each other. They were stage whispering in each other’s ears and studying her like an interesting piece of specimen.

_Won’t get much privacy in a place like this, when even the pictures watch your every move, _she thought with a certain amount of disconcertedness at the notion.

Her thoughts started spiraling out of control again as her predicament crashed down on her, and she could feel the edge of panic moving in, threatening to engulf her.

_How the hell did this happen? And why? Why am I here? And how is it even possible to end up in a fictional world created by J.K Rowling? How??_

An out of tune humming pierced through her mental turmoil, surprisingly quelling her anxiety. She glanced up at her companion, who wore an enigmatic smile as he hummed a melody; a tune only he knew the song to – it was so out of tune that Lauren could not make out what the song was supposed to be.

She frowned at him, wondering if he knew what on earth was going on? He certainly gave the impression that he was all-wise and knowing, and Lauren really hoped that he would have some answers. She, for one, didn’t have a clue. Which wasn’t saying much. Lauren considered herself pretty much clueless in everything.

The hairs at the nape of her neck stood up and she had a distinct feeling that she was being watched.

She glanced over her shoulder, only to meet the penetrating and cold gaze of none other than Severus Snape. He was not bothering to hide his distrust and…contempt? It was the only emotion that came to her mind when he glared at her like that.

_Oh, who am I kidding. This is Severus Snape. He hates everyone._

She turned her attention once more to Dumbledore. “Why is Severus Snape following us?” she asked, her voice sounding like rough sandpaper. She was choking for a glass of water.

Dumbledore turned those twinkling eyes onto her and his humming momentarily halted, thankfully.

“You know Severus?” He definitely sounded curious now.

Lauren sighed. “I know _of_ him. I know you’re Albus Dumbledore. And I know that this is Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What I don’t know is how the hell I ended up in a fictional book!” Her voice had gradually risen with each sentence, hinting at the panic that lay beneath the surface.

Dumbledore’s bushy brows arched in surprise out her outburst, and he glanced over his shoulder at their trailing shadow.

_Their deadly shadow, _she amended. Severus Snape was a very dangerous wizard, indeed.

Whatever passed between Headmaster and Professor was unseen by Lauren.

“I think it would be best to discuss this in my office,” Dumbledore stated, all traces of humor now gone.

_Uh-oh. I think I’m in trouble now, _Lauren thought. When Dumbledore dropped all pretenses of cordiality, it meant that things was very serious, and it usually did not bode well.

They arrived shortly at the entrance leading to his office. There stood the famous gargoyle that guarded it and as they neared, Dumbledore uttered the password (Sherbet Lemon). The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing and the slowly ascending spiraled staircase that wound ever upwards. 

“After you,” the Headmaster stated congenially, motioning with a wizened hand for her to precede him.

Lauren glanced back at Severus. If she was expecting any sort of assurance, she was sorely disappointed. He only deigned to level her with a dark scowl.

_I only want to know what’s going on. I don’t need any of this cloak and dagger bullshit, _she thought, but kept her comments to herself.

Lauren squared her shoulders and stepped onto the revolving staircase, letting it take her to the main door of Albus’ office.

She soon arrived at the heavy wooden door and a hand reached out from over her shoulder, pushing open the door. Dumbledore ushered her in and once inside she blinked in amazement. She knew what to expect from watching the movies, but the reality was still awe-inspiring and spellbinding.

The office was circular in shape, almost cathedral-like in atmosphere, and all along the walls hung the portraits of all the old headmasters and headmistresses of the past. A magnificent claw-footed desk was placed at the end of the room, and behind it was a large bookshelf where she thought she spied the Sorting Hat, looking shabby as ever. Two curved staircases on either side of the grand bookshelf led to another door; a door that she presumed was the entrance to his personal rooms.

Little ornaments whirred and buzzed all around them from the various surfaces they occupied, some emitting puffs of smoke, whilst others tinkled like chimes; all giving the room a charming feel. After all, this was the office of a rather brilliant and eccentric wizard.

The door closed softly behind them and Lauren startled, glancing back to see Professor Snape shutting the door and leaning against it, his arms folded in front and giving off a formidable aura. It was quite obvious that he was barring off any attempt of escape.

Lauren restrained from scoffing. _Where would she possibly go? _Dread suddenly settled in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight as she realized there really was nowhere else to go. Dumbledore motioned for her to take a seat opposite his desk while he took his own place in his plush high back chair. Severus Snape remained at his station by the door, the penultimate spy as he remained in the background shadows, observing and hearing everything.

Again, Lauren wondered why Dumbledore requested his presence? Surely McGonagall would have been a better option? Though, the witch could be damn right formidable in her own right, and Lauren didn’t really know if she would have been a better choice.

As she sat down, she was struck by how much bigger this chair seemed. Her legs barely touched the floor. She was not a tall person by any means, being all but five-foot-nothing, but usually she could sit comfortably in a chair with her feet touching the ground. This was ridiculous.

“Now, Miss Ward. Where to begin,” Dumbledore stared, steepling his long fingers in front of him.

“How about explaining how I actually got here?” she interrupted in a raspy voice. “And maybe a glass of water.” She paused, and then added in an afterthought, “Please.”

Dumbledore regarded her for a moment and then waved his hand, a clear glass of water appearing in front of him. He picked it up and offered it to her.

Lauren took it with a murmured thanks, but she paused, eyeing it speculatively. “Is it poisoned?”

A soft snort behind her let her know that her comment had either amused the Potion Master, or he was thinking she was being a particular dunderhead right now.

“I assure you, it is not poisoned,” the Headmaster assured.

_Oh what the hell. Maybe if they kill me now, I can return home and pretend none of this ever happened._

With that thought, Lauren gulped it down greedily, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards. She waited, but nothing happened. Not even a twinge.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Dumbledore teased, the twinkle back in his blue eyes. “Now, from your earlier question, I presume that you do not know how you appeared here?”

Lauren shook her head. Dumbledore studied her for a few moments, letting the silence stretch between them.

Finally, he spoke. “You crashed through the roof.”

Lauren blinked at him, not quite believing what she was hearing. “What?”

“That was some rather impressive magic wielded to be able to break through the protective wards that surround Hogwarts. Not many accomplish that.”

His features remained impassively unreadable.

“So then, who did it?” she finally asked.

“I would assume that you did.”

Lauren barked out a rough laugh. “Me? I’m as…” she paused, flapping her hand in front of her as she searched for the right terminology, “…Muggle as they come. I don’t know how to do magic.”

Dumbledore narrowed her with a look, his keen eyes peering at her over his half-moon spectacles. She resisted the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.

“Assuming I believe you,” he began, “would you care to tell me your version of events?”

Lauren sighed, leaning back in her chair and ran her hand over her face. _Should she even be telling him things, things that could affect the whole outcome for the world of Harry Potter? Though, Dumbledore had asked how she ended up here. That was safe enough, because she really didn’t know_. “I came home from work and proceeded to get blindingly drunk…”

Dumbledore held up his hand to halt her explanation, a puzzled frown marring his features. “The fact that you work and dabble in getting intoxicated…”

“I don’t do it every day,” she stated petulantly, feeling as though he were judging her for having a few drinks. _She was an adult and entitled to do as she please. Though, thinking back, it wasn’t a few drinks – it was the whole bloody bottle_. “Only when I’m stressed,” she added.

“I see,” Dumbledore said, though sounding quite the opposite. “And why were you stressed?”

This time Lauren did squirm in her chair, lowering her gaze. She really didn’t want to tell them about that prick, Deacon. But if she wanted answers, she was going to have to be truthful.

“Deacon called me and broke up with me over the phone. I don’t know about you, but where I’m from it’s customary to get sloshed after a bad break-up,” she snapped.

Silence reigned supreme in the room. Finally Dumbledore settled back more comfortably in his chair.

“How old are you, Miss Ward?”

The question caught her off guard. “Thirty,” she replied, crossing her legs at the knee, though her feet still did not touch the floor.

This time Albus looked over at Severus, arching a questioning brow. Disbelief was writ all over his features and when she glanced back at Professor Snape, she saw that his own dark brows were similarly arched, though his features were better schooled.

“What?” Lauren asked.

Dumbledore rose slowly from his chair, and with a wary sigh motioned her towards a floor length mirror that seemed to have magically appeared.

_Maybe it did. I am, after all, in the magical world of Harry freakin’ Potter!_

“I think you should see for yourself,” the Headmaster said.

Lauren scooted off her chair and cautiously walked over to the mirror.

“What am I supposed to be looking for? This isn’t the Mirror of Eris…” Before she could finish, she stopped dead at the sight in front of her, not catching the shocked look that passed between Headmaster and Professor at her mentioning the Mirror of Erised.

This was no adult reflection looking back at her. Instead, a rounded youthful face with midnight blue eyes stared back at her, framed by long brunette hair that resembled a tangled mess of waves. There was no mistaking that she was now staring at the image of her eleven-year-old self.

ooOoo

Lauren blinked.

And blinked again.

And then she exploded.

Rounding on the serene looking Headmaster, she shouted, “What the fuck did you do to me?!”

“I assure you that I did nothing to you,” was his calm reply, though a flash of astonishment was seen briefly in his eyes.

“Then how the hell do you explain why I am suddenly a…a child?!” she shrieked, not noticing that Professor Snape had pushed away from the door and had discreetly palmed his wand as he came to stand beside the Headmaster. Dumbledore shook his head at the Potion Master. Snape nonetheless kept his hold on his wand, though he made no other move.

“I do not know,” Dumbledore replied, his tone calm and assuring.

Lauren snarled in frustration, her hands clenching into fists by her side. “Then fix it! Turn me back!”

Dumbledore held up his hand placatingly. “Again, I do not know how.”

Lauren gawped at him in disbelief. Then she let loose another tirade. “You who are supposed to be the greatest wizard of all time - or so they say! What good are you if you can’t even fix whatever the hell has been done to me?!”

Professor Snape finally spoke up, his silky deep voice caressing along her senses and making her shiver, and effectively cutting off whatever else she was going to say. “Getting back to more pertaining issues, you seem to know an awful lot about us,” he stated, glaring down his hooked nose at her. “Care to explain?”

Lauren swallowed hard. Somehow his presence and voice had managed to penetrate through the haze of her meltdown and snap her out of it, his penetrating obsidian locking on to hers and keeping her grounded. They were like the darkest pools that seemed to suck her in an eternal abyss of midnight. It would be so easy to get lost in those unreadable eyes.

_Oh shit! He can read minds! Quick! Look away before he sees all the naughty daydreams you have harbored about him in the past, _her panicked mind stated, managing to break through the hypnotic moment.

Lauren tore her gaze away with great difficulty, well aware of the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry again.

“In my world,” she started, still unable to meet his gaze, “you are all just part of a fictional book created by an author. I know certain things that are going to happen, as well as certain details about…most of you.”

A contemplative hush fell upon them.

“And how do you know that you have not simply arrived after the events of this story?” Dumbledore finally asked, even managing to sound like he believed her. Lauren didn’t know why. She wouldn’t have believed her. Maybe he was just humoring her.

Lauren met his gaze head on. “Because the both of you are still alive.”

The only sound to be heard was from the various instruments whirring and chiming in their respective corners as the two men stared back at her with unblinking gazes. Their features were unreadable; expressionless at her statement.

“Look, why don’t you just use Legilimency on me and see for yourself that I’m telling the truth?” she offered in her frustration. She needed them to believe her so that they could then move forward in finding a way to fix all of this.

“Ah, but you see, to know of future events could be catastrophic, my dear,” Dumbledore explained, turning his back on her and making his way back to his chair, sitting down once more. He suddenly looked every bit his one hundred and fifty years of age as he cradled his cheek in his palm, his elbow resting on the armrest of his chair. “No, it would be unwise to show us what is to come.”

“So you believe me?”

“Yes, Miss Ward. I believe you.”

Lauren just stared back at him, disbelieving. Of her own violation, her gaze was drawn to the dark Potion Master, who still remained standing, impenetrable and unapproachable as always. Her heart suddenly gave a painful twist at the thought of what his future held, knowing there was no was to stop it.

Snape’s gaze snapped up to hers and he must have seen the expression plain on her face, for he suddenly sneered at her. She blinked, realizing that this was a defense mechanism of sorts. He was determined to keep others at bay with his dark scowls, condescending sneers, and acerbic attitude with a sharp tongue to match.

_Life has been cruel to you and has twisted you into this this. Does anyone even know who you truly are under all of it? _

Though, Lauren was not foolish enough to believe that Severus Snape was a merely misunderstood soul. He resided in the shadows, leaning more towards the side of dark than light. But there must be some inherent good in him for him to have loved Lily Evans with such loyal devotion, as well as the fact that he would continuously risk his life during the war to come, not only secretly protecting and helping Harry Potter, but as well as aiding the side of Light in his role as spy.

“Out of curiosity, what is the name of this fictional book?” Dumbledore suddenly asked, forcing Lauren to tear her gaze away from Snape, who chose that moment to stalk behind the Headmaster.

“Oh. Um, it’s called ‘Harry Potter’.”

A harsh hiss sounded through the room, and she realized that it had come from Severus.

“Of course it is,” he growled bitterly.

“It’s curious, then,” Dumbledore continued after shooting Severus a look, “that you happened to appear at the same time that Harry Potter started his first year at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore mused.

Lauren closed her eyes, already envisioning Quirrell and his freakishly possessed, turban-wrapped head. Not to mention the Basilisk that was to make an appearance the following year.

_This is not good. Hopefully I’ll be back in my world before all that crap goes down, _she hoped fervently.

Feeling sapped of all energy, Lauren went to sit down heavily in her own chair, repeating Professor Snape’s statement from moments before. “Of course it is.”

The seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes.

Finally Lauren spoke up. “Look, is there a way to get me back to my world? Preferably as an adult?”

“I can make enquiries at the Ministry…”

Lauren groaned. “Not those blundering idiots.”

Dumbledore gave her a small, amused smile. Snape, who had been pacing behind him, paused, and she detected a shadow of a smirk gracing his features.

_Oh look! I’ve amused Professor Snape…_

“Be that as it may, they may be the only ones able to help you,” Dumbledore continued.

Lauren drummed her fingers against the armrest of her chair. “Question is, can they be trusted?”

Snape shot her a look. It was a speculative look, almost (dare she say) approving with her train of thought.

Dumbledore reached into his robe and produced a packet of sweets, offering her one. “Lemon Drops?”

Lauren shook her head and watched as he plopped one in his mouth, sucking thoughtfully on the sweet before tucking the packet back into his pocket.

“I can make some discreet enquiries, but in the meantime…what are we going to do with you?”

Lauren stilled, wondering if he was going to Obliviate her. She did, after all, hold some very dangerous knowledge of the future.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t really fancy being a kid again. Once was hell enough, thank you very much. Is there any way to turn me back into an adult?”

Dumbledore regarded her thoughtfully over his now steepled fingers. “I do not know which spell was used on you in the first place. Reversing it may not be possible, if this is indeed the work of old magic, as I suspect.”

“We can’t very well leave her as a child,” Severus spoke up.

“I agree, Severus,” Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. He rounded his desk and came to stand before her. Drawing his wand from the sleeve of his robe, he aimed it at her.

Lauren instinctively scrunched her eyes closed, expecting to be Obliviated at any moment.

But nothing happened. She cracked open her eyes and saw Dumbledore staring at a reading only he could see from his wand, his brows furrowed deeply.

Severus, sensing that something was amiss, came to stand beside him. Seeing the readings himself, a deep scowl of his own etched onto his pale features.

“What? What is it?” Lauren asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Dumbledore peered at her over his glasses. “It’s curious…”

Lauren mentally rolled her eyes as his theatrics. “Yes?” she pressed.

“It says that there have been no magical enhancements made on you.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“It means, my dear, that you are, in every sense…a child.”

Lauren stared at him; certain she had not heard him correctly. “You forgot one thing, though.”

Dumbledore waited patiently for her to continue.

“I’m not a fucking child!” she snapped.

The old coot actually had the audacity to chuckle at her growing frustration. “That was not even up for debate with your colorful use of language.”

Lauren huffed, crossing her arms over her (jarringly flat) chest. _Where did my boobs go? Oh right – I haven’t hit puberty yet._

Dumbledore sheathed his wand and wandered over to a stand where a thick tome was resting. Severus Snape continued to stare at her intently, which she studiously tried to ignore. Which was hard. He had a way of working his way under her skin. In a good way or a bad way, she could not tell yet.

Dumbledore returned, the book balanced in the palm of his hand and flicked through the numerous pages, Snape discreetly watching over his shoulder.

“Ah,” he finally said, placing the book in her lap and pointing at a line on the page.

Lauren ducked her head and peered down at the neat script printed on the one line; one among many.

**Lauren Kay Ward. Birthday: 16 September 1979. Age: eleven years old. Muggle born. Parents: Unknown. Residence: Unknown.**

“I don’t understand,” she finally said, glancing up. “What does this mean?”

“This is a book with a list of every student in attendance at Hogwarts. Their names are automatically inscribed into the book when magic is sensed, or made apparent in the child, and it is used to send out acceptance letters to students when the time comes for them to attend school. The fact that your name is in this book shows that not only are you a child, but a magical one as well.”

Lauren scowled at him, and he hastily raised his hand and continued before she could snap at him again. “Yes, I am well aware you are not a child. But in this world, you are one now.”

Lauren pinched the bridge of her nose and mentally counted to ten, willing herself not to smack him across the head with the book. Though she could imagine the satisfying _thud _it would make on impact.

“Okay, fine. I’ll play along. For now. But there’s something wrong here. My birthday is wrong.”

Dumbledore gave her an enquiring look.

“The year is incorrect. I wasn’t born in 1979. I was born in 1989.”

Dumbledore and Severus shared another cryptic look between them.

“It would seem that not only have you travelled between worlds, but you have also travelled through time,” Dumbledore mused.

“Not to mention I’ve been turned into a bloody child,” she muttered, still sulking about that. “And what does it mean that both my parents and residence are unknown. I know full well where I live and both my parents are alive…Oh, they wouldn’t exist in this world, would they?”

Dumbledore shook his head sadly; Severus simply regarding her coolly. He hadn’t said much throughout the meeting, though she suspected that he was not one for giving his thoughts and opinions freely, rather choosing to gather information quietly and unobserved.

Lauren sighed. “So this basically means what? I have to attend Hogwarts and pretend that I’m a student?”

“It would seem so, but you would be a student in every sense. No pretending. You would be learning with the rest of the first years.”

“So that’s it? I’m going to have to redo school all over again?” she asked incredulously, slamming the tome shut and rising to her feet.

“For now, yes. Just until we can figure out how to fix this.”

“Are you daft?” she asked, her voice rising to a shout. “I’ve done my time. I already suffered through the hell they call school once before. What makes you think I want to do it again? All I want to do is go back to my crappy life and forget this ever happened!”

“Perhaps this would be a chance to start over. Make something more out of your…_crappy _life,” Snape interjected caustically, giving her a pointed look.

Lauren gaped at him. Severus Snape should be rallying to return her home, not advising her to stay and redo her life all over again.

Her life was basically a dead-end loop. She had managed to snatch a job as a secretary, and this was a high accomplishment considering all she had was a high school diploma that did not reflect very good grades. But she would go nowhere in life, this she knew for a fact. She could barely survive paying rent and food on her modest income, let alone scrape enough for an exotic vacation somewhere.

_Is Snape right? Is this a chance to start over again and make something of myself? _

When she looked up, she saw Dumbledore staring thoughtfully at Severus, who was studiously ignoring the old man. Though, that meant that he was still staring at her with unnerving intensity, watching every thought and reaction that crossed her features.

_Why, though, is he encouraging this? I thought he would be against me being here…_

“Miss Ward?” Dumbledore asked, breaking her from her musings.

“Hmm?” she hummed.

“What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“One always has a choice.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, not fully trusting this statement. Dumbledore, in her eyes, was a master manipulator. He would prod a person with a gently guided and veiled hint and that person would almost believe that the idea had been theirs all along. But the fact remained that it was he who was always in charge. The world was his personal playground and they were each a pawn in his game.

_Am I about to become one of his pawns?_

She thoughts about it, and finally came to a conclusion.

“No, I don’t think I really do have a choice in this. I’m stuck as a child with no way of turning back into an adult or returning back to my world. And, as the book says, I have nowhere else to go.” She sighed. “So what now.”

The Headmaster gave her a small close-lipped smile. “Now it’s time for the Sorting Hat.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Wait,” Lauren cut in just as Dumbledore started heading towards the shelf to retrieve the Sorting Hat. “How am I to pay for school supplies? I don’t have any money.” She intentionally left out the fact that even if Dumbledore were somehow able to access her account from her world, there would barely be enough money in there to pay for a quarter of the supplies. She was as broke as they came.

“The school has special funding for students in need,” Dumbledore assured.

Lauren nodded, though she chewed worriedly at her bottom lip. Even with the cost of school supplies covered, there was still the fact that she was going to need clothes, especially now that she was in the ‘growing stages’ of her life.

_Bloody hell! This is a nightmare._

Dumbledore, as though reading her mind, added delicately, “And the Ministry has provisions set aside for children in similar situations such as yourself.”

“You mean they have a secret fund for people that just happen to magically drop into a fictional world and find themselves children once again?” she asked sarcastically.

“Not quite,” the Headmaster muttered good-naturedly, seemingly unaffected by her surly disposition. Though, being in the presence of Severus Snape on a daily basis, the old man had probably become immune to the withering insults that were eloquently veiled by a dark, silky voice. There was no denying the fact that Snape was highly intelligent and could cut people down with a few well-chosen words – a talent that he used to his full advantage. But this certain skillset was annoyingly ineffective when it came to the Headmaster, it would seem.

“Has there ever been a situation like this before?” she enquired.

Dumbledore actually pondered the question for a few moments before throwing a questioning look in Severus’ direction. The Potion Master simply shook his head slowly from side to side; he had never heard of such a thing happening before either.

Lauren sighed and extended her hand, waiting for Dumbledore to pass her the Hat. “Lead me to my doom,” she sighed unenthusiastically.

He gave her a crooked smile before plopping the tattered hat in her outstretched hand, the material surprisingly soft and supple to the touch, contrary to its outer appearance.

“I think you and Miss Ward are going to get along splendidly,” he declared, his statement directed at Severus. “You both share a rather pessimistic outlook.”

Professor Snape levelled him with a dark scowl. “Life lessons have been…enlightening and have thus taught me to be cynical. Miss Ward, I am sure, has been gifted with similar experiences.”

The hat was half-way to her head when Lauren paused, reflecting on the difficulties Severus Snape had endured throughout his life. From an ambiguous hints of an abusive home life and the relentless and vindictive bullying suffered at the hands of the Marauders at school - which Dumbledore had done nothing to put a stop to it – to the disastrous events concerning Lily Evans…It was hardly surprising that Severus had taken on such a despised outlook on life.

Which lead her to her next line of thought. _Was it possible that Snape had lost his will to live a long time ago, possibly the same night that Lily was murdered at the hands of his Master, Voldemort? _

It was quite plausible. Lauren had suspected, from what she had read in the books and seen in the movies, that Severus had no expectations of surviving war and had resigned himself to his fate. She had always wondered why he had not fought back when Nagini had attacked him. Her conclusion had been that he had wanted to die that night.

_Or will want to die. That horrible event has still yet to happen._

Which begged the next question: how had he drawn similar conclusions from her when he barely knew her? Had he read her thoughts and memories without her knowledge? Or did it take a kindred spirit to recognize the signs that others would easily overlook.

Lauren chose not to dispute his claims - he spoke the truth, after all. There were very valid reasons why she was abrasive and rough around the edges. Life hadn’t been kind to her either, though it paled in comparison to what he had been through. And will go through.

“Experience is a bitch,” she muttered and then settled into her chair, pulling the Sorting Hat down firmly over her head. It was far too big and fell down over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.

_Hmm, what do we have here?_ the Hat’s voice echoed inside her head, startling her with the foreign intrusion. Having another voice inside her head was disconcerting.

“Sadly, just little ‘ol me,” she replied, clasping her hands in her lap as she awaited its verdict.

_You’re a highly unusual one…not from this world…yes, very interesting. What to do, what to do…_it ruminated, more to itself than to her.

Lauren waited for it to continue, resisting the urge to jiggle her feet impatiently or wiggle in her chair. She absently wondered if that was a childhood trait, the inability to sit still?

_You represent a very difficult choice, indeed. So many possibilities. I sense a certain amount of courage hidden deep within you…courage that will come to the forefront when the time calls for it…maybe Gryffindor…_

“If you dare put me in Gryffindor, I promise you that when Buckbeak shows up in this timeline, I will personally feed you to him. You’ll end up being nothing but Hippogriff poop once I’m done with you,” she growled.

The Hat was momentarily quiet, and Lauren wondered if she had offended it? _Was it even possible to insult a hat?_

_You would do well in Gryffindor, _it finally spoke up._ You are fiercely loyal, and you are not afraid to fight for what you believe in. Traits of a true Gryffindor. So why your objection?_

“Because Gryffindors are shown blatant favoritism, getting away with things that would normally have others expelled in a heartbeat.” Her thoughts instantly went to Sirius Black and how he attempted to murder Severus by sending him into the Shrieking Shack, where he knew full well a werewolf lay in wait. If James Potter hadn’t had a stab of conscience, it most certainly would have ended up being murder. _And Sirius would still have probably gotten away with it_, she thought bitterly. _All because he was a Golden Gryffindor._

_You have an acute sense of justice, too. Something Gryffindors pride themselves in. Then there is also your short temper, another common feature…_

_Severus has a short temper, _she thought to herself, but was wise enough not to say this out loud. She was keenly aware that the two men in the room were listening intently to her conversation with the Sorting Hat, though she doubted they could hear what the Hat was saying - it seemed to speak only inside her head. But both Headmaster and Professor could most assuredly hear her.

The last thing she needed was for Snape to hear her pointing out the fact that he shared a common trait with Gryffindor. He would surely flay her alive for that.

_Ravenclaw is a possibility, _the Sorting Hat continued, ignoring her line of thought._ Behind your abrasive mask lies an intellectual…_

“Have you seen my grades from high school? I’m not exactly what you would call an intellectual.”

_Maybe, but that was before. What about now? _the Hat pressed, pausing for good measure to let his implication settle in._ Knowing what you know, and what is at stake if you should fail, would it be safe to assume that you would apply yourself this time round to achieve the life you desire? The very life that was denied to you back in your world?_

Lauren thought about that. If there was no way for her to return to her old life (which seemed like a distinct possibility), then this would prove to be golden opportunity for a second chance. A chance to make something of her life. A chance to achieve good grades through hard work and dedication and become something...more.

Then reality crashed down as she really thought about it. She would have to learn everything from scratch. She would have to learn and dedicate all the properties of the ingredients needed to brew a perfect potion to memory. She would have to learn to flick her wand just the right way. She would have to learn all the Latin words used to cast spells. Not to mention all the detailed history she would have to memorize.

She felt the rising panic begin to take over. It felt as though she were being set up for failure.

_Guaranteed, it’s not going to be easy, but you are not going to be the only one who will have to start from the beginning and learn all the basics._

_Of course, _Lauren thought, somewhat mollified. _There will be other Muggle-Borns who will be in the same boat as me. I won’t be the only novice bumbling my way through school…_

_And help can be found in the unlikeliest of places…all you need to do is ask…_

Lauren frowned to herself, trying to decipher the cryptic words of the Hat.

_You have caught the attention of a particular Professor. I am certain he will guide you if you seek out his aid._

Lauren stilled, wondering whom the Hat was referring to? Then her thoughts drifted to Severus Snape. She had assumed that the Headmaster had summoned him to help deal with her, but maybe that hadn’t the case at all.

_No, Professor Snape came of his own accord. After all, it’s not every day that someone crashes through the roof of the Great Hall, managing to break through numerous protective wards in the process. You managed to pique his curiosity. _

_Interesting, _she mused, unsure how she should really feel about this revelation.

_It is, indeed. You and he are more similar than you care to admit…_

Lauren snorted.

_You shall find out in due time, child…_

“I’m not a child,” she snapped.

The Sorting Hat chuckled in her head, highly amused at her ire.

Lauren lifted the Hat part way off her head, noting that Dumbledore was now leaning back against his desk, his gnarled hands clutching the edges on either side of him and a look of consternation etched on his wizened face (probably from the comment she had made about Gryffindors). Professor Snape stood off to the side, his arms folded in front on him and his ever present scowl etched on his pale face.

“Does it ever stop talking?”

It was Dumbledore’s turn to chuckle. “You’re a conundrum. It will eventually sort you into the House that best suits you,” he replied amusedly, motioning for her to put the Hat back on.

Sighing dramatically, Lauren did as she was bid, glimpsing the brief twitch of Professor Snape’s lips as he suppressed his smile. Once more she was plunged back into murky darkness.

_You have been brought here for a very particular reason, Miss Ward. Can you guess why, with the hints I have given you?_

_Snape, _she immediately thought, unashamed that he was the thought that had popped into mind. _You think I can help him?_

_I think you can both help each other…_

“Is that why I was brought here?” she asked out loud.

_Yes._

“How? Was it you?”

Another chuckle sounded. _No. I do not possess such magic._

“Then who did?”

_You shall find out in due time…_

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, enough with the bloody riddles!”

_Very well then, _the Sorting Hat said slyly in her head. And then it suddenly shouted out, clear for all to hear, “Slytherin!”

“What?! You barely considered me for the other houses, except Gryffindor.”

_Which you flatly refused, _the Hat pointed out._ Your prickly demeanor, paired with your foul temper and barbed tongue, ruled you out of the running for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You would have been a poor fit for those houses anyway. That left the choice of Slytherin. I think, if you put your mind to it, you can be cunning and shrewd enough to fit right in. And it will keep you in close vicinity of Professor Snape. Who, I might add, is the reason for you being here._

“Is that the only reason?” she asked, unable to wrap her mind around the fact that she was somehow supposed to help the formidable and fearsome Professor. _How the hell was she supposed to do that, especially when he was not the sort of person to easily let others in?_

_No, there are others. But, yes, he is the main reason._

“Okay, but you’re forgetting the fact that I’m Muggle-Born. I thought Muggle-Borns weren’t sorted or accepted into the Slytherin House?”

_It is rare but, being of a Slytherin nature and possessing certain Slytherin qualities, who says you have to tell them the truth? _And with that, the Hat went silent.

Lauren slowly lifted it from her head, blinking as her eyes tried to adjust. She glanced over at Dumbledore. “I think your barmy Sorting Hat made a mistake,” she bit out, handing him back the ratty Hat.

Dumbledore affectionately dusted it off and placed the Hat back on the shelf. “What makes you say that, Miss Ward?”

“For starters, it wanted to sort me into Gryffindor,” she declared, visibly shuddering before deciding to stand up.

“Yes, I heard,” Dumbledore said dryly. “It’s nice to know you think so highly of that House.”

“Oh don’t give me that crap. Slytherins are automatically shunned, solely because of the house they belong to. They are deemed the worst of the worst from the start. Gryffindors, on the other hand, are favored above all. You, I should point out, are guilty of showing such favoritism towards Gryffindors,” she criticized, her blue eyes flashing with the injustice of it all.

His eyes narrowed, his own ire coming to the forefront as he pursed his lips in disapproval. “I should warn you, Miss Ward, that as a student of Hogwarts, such insolence shall not be tolerated. You would do well to learn some respect.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lauren knew it would be unwise to make an enemy of this wizard. But she seemed unable to reign in her tongue.

“Respect needs to be earned, not demanded,” she replied evenly, unwilling to back down. “Besides, my point shall be proven at the end of the school year.”

Puzzlement replaced anger, and Dumbledore hastily held up his hand. “Do not reveal any more details of future events.”

“What is the other reason that you assume that the Sorting Hat made a mistake?” Snape interjected smoothly, his silky voice diffusing the building tension with effortless ease.

Lauren turned her attention to Snape, who was keenly observing her. His dark eyes, framed by even darker lashes, glinted like deep pools of obscurity, intrigue barely detectable upon the surface. His pale features were set in a neutral mask, and he stood sure and straight, his posture impeccable. He was the epitome of darkness yet, somehow, he had taken on the role of mediator between her and Dumbledore.

Lauren blinked at the revelation, and her mind quickly scrabbled to return to their previous point of discussion. “As you know, I’m Muggle-Born. That should automatically disqualify me from Slytherin.” She paused, her brows furrowing. “Though, the Sorting Hat did say it was rare but not unheard of…”

“The Sorting Hat was correct. Though highly unusual, there have been a select few Muggle-Borns that have been sorted into Slytherin,” Dumbledore stated, donning once more the mask of personable and wise Headmaster.

“So…I should lie about being Muggle-Born?”

“I’d suggest omitting the truth. Or maybe evade it altogether,” Severus supplied, cunning lacing his rich, deep voice.

“Something Slytherins are good at doing,” she pointed out.

Severus gave her a small smirk. “Indeed,” he intoned.

“Okay, but I really don’t think I possess the characteristics of a Slytherin,” she went on.

“I beg to differ,” Dumbledore mused. In his mind, it would seem, she was very much a Slytherin and nothing would convince him otherwise.

Lauren arched a brow at the Headmaster. On her adult self it would have looked condescending, but paired with her now youthful and childish face, it failed miserably. A fact that was quite obvious when Dumbledore flashed her an amused smile.

Dumbledore’s eyes shifted to Severus and then back to her. “Yes, I think the Hat sorted you correctly,” was all he deigned to say on the subject. “Now that the matter has been settled, I must impart on you the importance on keeping all future knowledge you possess to yourself, Miss Ward. Do not talk about it, not even with Professor Snape or myself. I cannot stress how detrimental it would be if you inadvertently altered events.”

“My being here has automatically changed things,” she pointed out.

“That may well be, but you need to exercise caution. That includes interacting with Harry Potter. In fact, I think it would be best if you avoided him altogether.”

Lauren eyed him suspiciously. Part of her thought this was just him being a manipulative bastard and trying to control everything, but another part knew that if she tried to change events from the book, the whole outcome would be very different. And maybe not for the better. The Headmaster did make a valid point.

Her eyes shifted to Severus Snape, who stood silently to the side, half in and half out of the shadows.

She was a Slytherin now, and she was going to have to be cunning and shrewd, especially with the issue regarding Severus Snape. She wasn’t wholly concerned about Harry Potter – he had ample enough help from some of the greatest wizards and witches around. But who did Severus have? No one.

She gave a short nod of assent, her gaze still on the Potion Master.

“Excellent!” Clapping his long-fingered hands together, Dumbledore pivoted to address Snape. “Severus, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Ward to her room?”

Severus gave him a curt nod and sharply nudge his head to the side, indicating that she should follow him, which she did without question. Surprisingly, he held the door open for her.

“Miss Ward?” Dumbledore suddenly spoke up.

She halted in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder at the wizard.

“Your supplies will be delivered to your room by morning. And might I suggest that you endeavor to refrain from using questionable language from now on.”

“Ah, that might be problematic,” she replied. Swearing was almost second nature to her, a habit she couldn’t help.

“I thought as much,” he sighed and suddenly waved his wand in her direction.

Lauren blinked and glanced around, feeling no different. “What did you do to me?”

Dumbledore gave her an enigmatic smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he tucked his wand back into the sleeve of his robe. “You shall find out soon enough.” He nodded again to Severus, clearly dismissing them.

“What did he do to me?” she asked as Professor Snape stepped around her and started descending the stairs, his hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back. Lauren had to quicken her pace to keep up with him.

“A simple, yet effective spell,” was his nonchalant reply.

They passed by the gargoyle and Snape strode down the darkened hallway, his cape billowing behind him.

“Oi! Can you slow down?” she panted, running to catch up to him.

Severus glanced down at her and gave an annoyed huff, though he did slow his pace.

Now matching his strides, Lauren persisted. “Can you please tell me what Dumbledore did to me?”

His lips twitched and he glanced down at her as they continued walking. “No.”

She frowned at the single syllable. “No? You mean ‘no’ as in you can’t tell me, or ‘no’ as in you won’t tell me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched again. “I think a simple no will suffice.”

She scowled at him. “You’re a real prat, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” he stated with a shrug. “Do try and be imaginative when insulting someone,” he drawled.

“Beetlejuice,” she snapped.

Lauren stuttered to a halt, her eyes widening like saucers and her mouth forming a surprised ‘o’. Severus, too, had come to a standstill and was staring back at her, a slow smile curling his lips.

“What did you call me?”

“I, uh…” she stuttered.

Severus closed the distance between them in two long strides, and she was acutely aware of how close he was standing in front of her. She picked up the distinct smell of herbs and old parchment, a scent that strangely suited him. Craning her neck to meet his penetrating gaze, Lauren swallowed thickly.

“Say. It. Again.” He enunciated each word, slowly and carefully, that predatory smile still on his lips as he gazed down at her with unsettling intensity.

“Beetlejuice,” she repeated, almost a whisper. _What! No, I didn’t mean to say that! I meant to say ‘Bastard’.”_

His smile widened and suddenly a low chuckle escaped his lips, the sound almost disconcerting, especially coming from this particular man. If she hadn’t been so confused, Lauren would have realized that it sounded rather pleasant.

His amusement died down, and Snape gave her a pointed look before turning and striding away.

“Wait! Did Dumbledore do this to me? Did he somehow make it so that I would be unable to swear?” she questioned as she hastened to catch up to him.

“That would be correct,” Snape stated.

Lauren scowled. “That…that Beetlejuice!” she exclaimed with feeling.

Snape’s laughter echoed through the hallway, following them down to the dungeon.


	4. Chapter 4

Lauren shifted her gaze side longs, discreetly observing the dark Potion Master as they made their way to the Slytherin Common Room. He was proving an enigma of epic proportions in her mind. Snape, from what she had watched in the movies and had read in the books, exuded unpleasantness and often impressed upon others around him that he wasn’t a very likeable wizard. Lauren greatly suspected that he encouraged this viewpoint, doing little to contradict otherwise.

But there was something different about him as she walked alongside him. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it was almost as though the constant, coiled tension he enshrouded himself with like a heavy cloak had eased somewhat, his scowl now absent and leaving his features smooth and unmarred, though still frustratingly unreadable.

Lauren had to wonder if Severus’ surly disposition only came to the forefront when he was forced to endure Harry Potter and his friends’ presence, and by extension, the rest of the students of the other Houses. The fact that none dared approach him lent weight to this theory.

Her thoughts drifted to the Slytherin students and the fact that Snape was their Head of House. _Did he treat them with the same contempt and disdain as he did with the other students?_ Lauren somehow doubted it, otherwise he would not be placed in charge of their wellbeing. The Slytherins would need to know that there was someone they could go to when they needed help, and Snape would have to have their confidence and be somewhat approachable in order for them to come to him with their problems. Though, she suspected that he would have little to no patience for trivial drama that seemed to plague student life.

_No_, she concluded, _Snape is a complex character; there is more lurking beneath that impenetrable surface_.

“I am not above hexing you if you continue to stare at me,” Snape intoned, his gaze still resolutely trained ahead.

Lauren blinked, realizing that she had, indeed, been staring at him.

“You must lead a very dull existence if you find my appearance so…fascinating,” he drawled.

“You have no idea,” she remarked, unwilling to let him rile her up. Suddenly she turned to him, a question coming to the forefront. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” he enquired, meeting her gaze with his own penetrating one as he stared down at her. It did not escape Lauren’s attention that Professor Snape was quite tall, hitting the six-foot mark by her estimation. Added to the fact that he had impeccable posture and held himself upright with rigidity, as well as all the layers of black, gave him a distinct formidable air.

“Wrap yourself in an aura of danger?” she replied. “You exude darkness even when you are just standing in a room, doing absolutely nothing.”

“I hadn’t realized I did such a thing,” he replied, the lie flowing smoothly from his silver tongue.

“Oh, Krusty Krabs,” she declared, monetarily startled at the Spongebob reference. _How the hell did Dumbledore even know about Spongebob Squarepants?!_

Snape arched an imperious brow. “Krusty Krabs?”

She flapped a hand impatiently, flushing embarrassedly and scowling to cover it up. _I’m so going to murder Dumbledore! _“You know what I mean.”

His lips slowly curved upwards, his eyes glimmering with restrained humor. “Did you, perhaps, mean… ‘Bullshit’?” he asked, drawing out the word and making it sound deliciously forbidden, especially uttered in that deep, rich voice.

Lauren huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It really unfair that you’re able to swear,” she said sulkily. “By the way, how long will this spell last?”

“Until it is lifted.”

_Uh oh. So…never, then._

“Could you lift it?”

“I could…”

Lauren waited hopefully and, rather, naively.

“…but I won’t,” he finished, dashing all hope without an ounce of remorse.

“Why not?” she protested.

They passed the now empty Great Hall and were heading towards a stairway situated further down the passageway, which presumably led down to the dungeon.

Professor Snape paused at the opening, giving her his full attention. “Think about it, Miss Ward. You are, by all outward appearances, an eleven-year-old child in a school that strictly abhors any foul language. It would not do for us to allow you to use such expletives, especially in front of the more impressionable and younger students. It would set a bad example and seeing that you are unable to control these…urges,” he said, emphasizing the word with disdain, “this was the best course of action to take.”

“And you approve of this?”

Snape levelled her with an intense stare. “I really don’t care either way.”

“Of course you don’t,” she muttered bitterly, still spitting mad that her more expressive nature had been taken away from her.

Her gaze was drawn to the dimly lit stairs that wound down into murkiness below, and when she dragged her attention back to Severus Snape, she noted that he was regarding her intently, though no discernable emotion was writ on his pale features.

Professor Snape was not a man one would call handsome, at least not in the general sense. Yes, he had a hooked nose, but the books blew it way out of proportion, and it wasn’t any worse than Dumbledore’s own crooked one. His pallor could be described as pallid, or maybe even sallow, but she thought that it was rather the stark, inky black of his hair contrasting with his skin tone that made it seem unnaturally pale. And talking of hair…it wasn’t greasy looking or lank as she had expected. Instead, in this light, the fine strands looked glossy. Even silky.

Lauren pondered this and had to conclude that the fumes of the potions being brewed in his classroom all day left his hair greasy. If she was in his same position, standing over a boiling cauldron day in and day out, her own hair would be in the same state. Maybe even worse.

Snape arched a brow, almost as though he had read her thoughts, though Lauren was past the point of caring whether he possessed this ability or not.

“What can I expect going down there? I feel like I’m being thrown in the deep end here, completely unprepared,” she finally asked.

Severus Snape regarded her and when he replied, she was surprised that he hadn’t brushed off her question.

_Yes, he is different from what everyone thinks he is. Or what he chooses to let everyone believe._

“Unsurprisingly, you will be questioned. Considering your grand entrance tonight, it is to be expected.” His penetrating gaze held her captive, making her want to squirm under the scrutiny, yet reluctant to break the spell he wove.

_Bloody hell! He’s good at that. I really need to get him to show me how to unnerve a person with a single look._

“I would exercise caution about revealing the truth of your…unique origins. If pressed, simply state that you were brought up in a Muggle orphanage and that you do not know of you parents, though Dumbledore suspects that _maybe_ they were a witch and a wizard. It would be safer to feed your fellow Slytherins this lie than tell them the truth.”

“Are they really that fanatical about blood purity?” she asked, well aware that Severus was a half-blood and might have faced adversity himself in the past.

“For the most part, yes,” he stated simply. “But do not judge all by the ideology of some.”

Lauren nodded, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into. She was literally walking into a pit of serpents.

“That aside, Slytherins are loyal to their own kind. And by all accounts, you are a Slytherin now. You will find, if you choose, that the friends you make will protect and defend you. They will help you, regardless of whether you are in the right or wrong.”

Lauren boldly held his gaze. “And what if I need your help?”

Severus remained silent as he considered her words.

Finally he replied. “I can be found in my office after hours if you should have any questions. But do not waste my time with trivialities,” he warned darkly, letting her know that he was deadly serious. Lauren was no fool and knew it wouldn’t be wise approach him for something as mundane as a broken nail.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret extending that offer,” he muttered, not bothering to hide his disgust.

Lauren flashed him a toothy grin. “Yup.”

His response was a sneer. For all his reticence, Lauren greatly suspected that Snape’s curiosity about her would grant her more leeway when it came to his time and attention than it would with others.

He turned sharply on his heel and started descending the stairs, Lauren following close behind.

Once in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned left and strode down the corridor, which was dimly illuminated by lanterns that cast eerie shadows upon the rough stone walls as they walked along.

“This is the Potion classroom. My classroom,” he explained, pausing outside a closed wooden door. “I have the dismal pleasure of teaching all you dunderheads the fine craft of potion making and trying to ensure that none of you blow yourself up in the process,” Severus elucidated.

Lauren glanced at the door and then back at him, giving him a skeptical look. “Have many students ever blown themselves up?”

“Not under my tutelage. Though, there have been times when I have been tempted to let them do just that, if only to be rid of one less idiot in this school.”

Lauren quirked a smile at his statement. _Severus Snape actually has a sense of humor._

“There is another door on the other side of the classroom which leads to my office. You can seek out my assistance there, should you ever need it.”

She gave him a small smile; it was, after all, not every day that Severus Snape gave such an offer.

“Do you think I’ll be able to do it?” She asked and elaborated when he shot her a questioning look. “Do you think I’ll be able to learn magic and brew positions and cast spells, and…well, learn it all?”

Snape remained unnaturally still. Finally he spoke, his words clipped and his eyes reflecting little to no emotion. “That is entirely up to you and your willingness to acquire knowledge and retain it, as well as understand it and put it to good use. My expectations for your success are minimal at best.”

With that cutting remark he strode down the corridor, his robes snapping sharply at his booted heels, where he halted at a bare patch of wall that was utterly nondescript.

Lauren glared at him, feeling white hot daggers of rage flare within her at his cruel statement.

_What a horrible thing to say! I had thought he was different, but he is certainly proving me wrong. He’s nothing but a vindictive, bitter, contemptuous, good-for-nothing son of a…, _she raged in her mind, cursing him thoroughly and quite explicitly.

She came to stand beside him, glaring at the wall and refusing to look at him as she seethed over his words.

“A password is required to be admitted into any Common Room,” he explained, completely unfazed at her angry expression. “It changes every fortnight and the new password is posted on the bulletin board. Be sure to keep an eye out for it and memorize it.”

“Let me guess. The password for this one is ‘Dungeon Bat’?” she asked with a snarl.

Through her peripheral vision, she saw his head whip around. She slowly turned her head in his direction and instantly regretted her words.

Brimming in those cold, hard obsidian depths was dark, unfurling anger. The kind of silent anger that was more dangerous and formidable than any outburst could be. It was like a brewing storm on the horizon, hinting at powerful and deadly force. And just beneath that scorching rage, barely discernable to the naked eye, lay abject hurt. It was there and she had glimpsed it and wished she could take her words back. Knowing that she was the cause of that hurt – regardless of how well deserved it was – didn’t settle well with her.

“Impudent _girl,_” he growled, putting emphasis on the word ‘girl’. In his sneaky Slytherin way, he was insulting her right back by referencing her current regression into a child, knowing that this was the best way of inflicting the most hurt with her. 

Lauren blinked back the tears that had sprung unbidden in her eyes. To Severus Snape she was very much a girl and he would always view her as such – and this knowledge hurt more than any other insult he could have inflicted on her.

She hung her head to hide her tears and murmured, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Severus just stared at her through guarded eyes, not an ounce of emotion or humanity seeping through.

Then he abruptly glanced away and addressed the patch of wall, “Serpentibus perierunt domus.”

_Wh…what?! How the bleeding hell am I supposed to remember that?!_

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“House of serpents,” he replied coolly, still refusing to look at her as the wall smoothly slid open to reveal a passageway within.

“Fitting,” she remarked, well aware of the thick tension that had formed an impenetrable wall between them. She wanted to apologize again, but her pride wouldn’t let her. So she settled on asking him questions instead. “Couldn’t you have picked something simpler?”

“What makes you think I picked the password?” he asked, his tone still frosty as he started walking down the passage.

“You’re the Head of the Slytherin House. It’s only logical that you would be the one to pick the passwords.”

He didn’t bother replying – a fact that irritated her to no end. Lauren despised being ignored.

This part of the dungeons had an ethereal greenish tinge to it, and Lauren couldn’t tell if it was from the lanterns or if the walls were giving it this hue. By the cool dampness permeating the air, she could tell they were quite deep beneath the castle.

She startled from her thoughts, realizing that Snape was way ahead of her and wasn’t bothering keeping his pace slow this time for her. Lauren tried to run up and catch up with him, but he was either too damned fast or refusing to let her do so.

He halted before a set of heavy wooden double doors that were ornately carved and the handles curved and silver. Severus glanced over his shoulder at her, letting his impatience show as he waited for her to catch up.

But just before she reached his side, he pushed open the door and strode in, leaving her alone in the cold hallway.

Lauren felt a pang of guilt stab through her heart. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, really. The words had just slipped out before she could stop it, something that happened more times than she cared to admit. And now, by the looks of it, apologizing wasn’t going to be enough to fix this.

She swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat. _I don’t want to make him an enemy, _she thought pathetically. _I’m meant to help him but, instead, I have made it worse._

She could discern low murmuring coming from within the room and a sense of queasiness washed over her; a different kind of fear altogether. She was now going to have to step inside, pretend she was a student in every sense of the words, and somehow try and fit in. And not reveal too much in the process. Her reality suddenly felt very daunting.

“Miss Ward, I do not appreciate idle dawdling,” Snape snapped from within the room, making her jump.

Lauren swallowed thickly and took a shaky step forward.

_Oh God! I can’t do this! I can’t redo school all over again. This is my worst nightmare come true. _

Lauren wasn’t exaggerating. She was often plagued by dreams where she was back in high school, and she would wake up in a cold sweat on those nights, thankful that it had only been a nightmare.

Wiping her now clammy hands against her jeans, she thought that it was just as well she hadn’t been sorted into Gryffindor. Her courage was non-existent now and had long since fled her. And all she had to do was face a room of prepubescent and teenage kids. She shuddered at the thought.

Steeling herself, Lauren stepped into the Common Room.

Such was her awe that she did not, at first, notice the group of curious faces peering back at her.

The Slytherin Common Room was surprisingly surreal in its breathtaking beauty, and it was very different from what she had imagined it to look like.

It was obvious, at first glance, that this part of the dungeons was situated somewhere under the Black Lake. The tall windows that stretched from floor to vaulted ceiling looked out into the blue-green tinged murky waters, and she thought she could see shadowy things swimming beyond.

Grand chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and lanterns all around the room gave off a greenish tinge to the grandeur interior. There was a large fireplace that instantly drew the eye, and within crackled and inviting fire, heating up the Common Room. Just above the stone mantle hung a portrait of twisted serpents set in against emerald green background. Two leather couches were positioned in front of the fireplace, and off to the other side of the room was a large, polished round table with high back and plush upholstered chairs encircling it.

Lauren felt like she was in an underwater shipwreck; magical and entrancing and ethereal all rolled into one. She instantly fell in love.

And, for the first time since she had arrived, Lauren felt like she had finally found the place where she truly belonged.

She glanced over to Snape, who was observing her reaction keenly. Noting the expression on her face, a small prideful smile graced his lips.

_Yes_, she thought with insight. _Professor Snape is proud of his house and what it represents. _

Then she suddenly noticed the students congregated in a loose group around the Potion Master, and her panic returned tenfold. Within the crowd she picked out a head of platinum blonde hair that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. He was currently regarding her with shrewdness, his eyes narrowed as he observed her, but there was none of the hostility lurking on his features that he often reserved for Harry Potter.

“I would like to welcome Miss Lauren Ward into our fold,” Professor Snape said slowly, rolling his tongue around each syllable as he spoke, commanding everyone’s attention. “She is now to be one of our fellow Slytherin’s, and as a Slytherin, I would like for all of you to be welcoming of her presence. After all, we do not abandon our own in times of need. There is much that she does not know, and she is going to need your help settling in and navigating life within Hogwarts. I ask that you give her your assistance.”

Professor Snape paused, gauging each of his student’s reaction to his speech.

“You say that she doesn’t know much. Does that mean she’s Muggle-Born?” This, unsurprisingly, came from Draco.

Severus slowly directed his attention to Draco. “Miss Ward’s lineage is unknown at this point.” This drew some raised brows of surprise and curious looks, but each student remained respectfully silent as Snape continued, “But the fact remains that the Sorting Hat saw certain traits within her; traits that deemed her suitable enough to be sorted into Slytherin.”

This earned a few nods from some of the students. It was obvious that none would dare argue with the formidable Professor.

“But I think you have overlooked something important, Draco,” Professor Snape drawled, cunning suddenly flashing within his eyes.

“What’s that, Sir?” Draco asked.

“Miss Ward has singlehandedly managed to do the impossible…”

Draco waited with bated breath for his Godfather to continue. Snape peered down his nose at the young wizard, a slow smile curling his lips.

“With her spectacular entrance tonight, Miss Ward, dare I say, has now managed to outshine the famous Harry Potter. A feat no other could accomplish. She, I think, will be a boon to our House.”

Draco’s eyes flashed with greedy delight at this revelation, and Lauren now regarded Snape with a new sense of respect. By painting her as someone of value and importance, he had thus ensured that she would be accepted by the other Slytherins, regardless of blood purity or not. It was quite a tactical move on his part.

Professor Snape regarded each of the Slytherin’s and, satisfied that he had accomplished his task, turned to an older girl with plain brown hair that hung in a straight curtain down her back. From the badge pinned to her cloak, Lauren instantly recognized her as a Prefect.

“Miss Farley, can you please show Miss Ward to her room and answer any questions she may have.”

Gemma Farley nodded. “Yes, Sir,” she replied, striding confidently towards Lauren, her honey brown eyes twinkling delightedly at her new charge.

Lauren eyed the older girl’s approach wearily but stood her ground. Gemma stopped in front of her and extended her slim hand. Lauren blinked at the friendly gesture and she tentatively shook her proffered hand.

Her gaze slid over to Snape, who was watching their interaction like a hawk. He caught her eye and gave an imperceptible nod of his head. Snape trusted the Prefect and knew Lauren would be in good hands.

“Come. I’ll show you to the First Year’s Dormitory,” Gemma stated, beckoning for Lauren to follow.

Lauren took a step forward, but Snape’s voice had her halting in her tracks.

“Miss Ward?”

She glanced over her shoulder, dreading to witness the animosity that the Potion Master was still undoubtedly feeling towards her. But, surprisingly, it was absent from his features.

He stared at her for a heartbeat and then continued, “Welcome to Slytherin.” If she was not mistaken, she could have sworn that his gaze softened just a fraction. Hope bloomed anew that he had accepted her apology from earlier on and was, in his own way, conveying this to her. It was enough to loosen the tight band of guilt twisting her conscience.

“Thank you…Sir,” she replied, giving him a small smile.

Snape gave a curt nod and swept from the room, his black robes billowing with the sharp movement.

She turned her attention back to Gemma and followed the other girl out of the Common Room to a set of doors. These doors led to a long, wide passage adorned with lanterns and woven tapestries. There were seven sets of identical doors placed at intervals along the way, and Gemma halted outside the first door located to their right. Swinging the door open, she revealed a large room with five four-poster beds swathed in plush, green bedding. A large emerald green rug edged with white carpeted the stone floor, an image of a serpent embroidered onto it.

This room, like the Common Room, had tall arched windows that looked out into the depths of the Black Lake, the sound of swishing water having a calming effect. Lauren quite imagined that the white noise would be quite conductive for a good night’s rest.

Trunks were placed at the foot of each bed. All except one.

_That would be my bed, then, _she thought numbly.

“I had wondered why there had only been nine Slytherin’s this year,” Gemma remarked casually from behind her.

Lauren turned around to face her. “How many are there normally?”

“Ten First Years. Forty students are enrolled into Hogwarts each year and each House receives ten.”

Lauren nodded at this news, though she had to wonder how the Sorting Hat managed to divided the students up equally, ensuring that each House received its quota of ten. Surely there would be times when there were more students that were better suited for a particular house than others? She really didn’t have the answer, and right now she didn’t want to really think too hard about it.

“How did you do that?” Gemma asked, breaking Lauren from her thoughts. She shot the girl a confused look. “How did you managed to break through the wards and land in the Great Hall like that?”

“I don’t know,” Lauren answered honestly. “Dumbledore is going to make some enquiries and find out exactly what happened,” she supplied.

Gemma studied her, no doubt weighing up the truth of her words. Satisfied, she continued. “That must have been quite a shock for you.”

“It was,” Lauren agreed.

“What were you doing before you apparated here?” There was nothing but intrigue radiating from the teenager.

_Getting exceptionally drunk. _Lauren didn’t think that would be an appropriate answer, though. She frowned slightly as something important niggled at the back of her mind. There was something she was forgetting, but she couldn’t remember what.

“Oh, uh…I was going to bed.”

“What about your parents? Surely they must be worried that you just disappeared?”

Lauren felt like she was being interrogated by the Inquisitor, but Snape had forewarned her that there would be questions.

“I’m an orphan. I don’t know anything about my parents.”

Gemma’s facial expression morphed into that of sincere empathy. “I’m so sorry.”

Lauren just nodded. It was safer not to elaborate.

“So, you grew up in a Muggle orphanage then?”

Again, Lauren nodded.

“And your parents…is there a possibility that they could have been a witch and a wizard?”

Lauren paused. “I don’t know, though Professor Dumbledore is going to look into it and find out what he can.”

Gemma nodded, satisfied. Then her gaze landed on Lauren’s bed.

“Oh, you don’t have a trunk.”

“The headmaster said my supplies would be here by morning.”

Silence stretched before them and then Gemma patted her shoulder sympathetically. “It’s a lot to take in, but it will get better. I’ll let you get settled in and get a good night’s rest,” Gemma stated. “If you need me for anything, the door to my room is the last one down the passage. Don’t hesitate to come to me with any problems you may have.”

“Thank you, Gemma,” Lauren said, walking stiffly towards her bed. Her head was beginning to pound again and she just wanted to be left alone.

Sensing this, Gemma gave her a smile and closed the door behind her as she left the room.

Lauren sat on the edge of the rather comfy bed and cradled her head in her hands. Hopefully when she woke up in the morning, this would all prove just to be a very bad dream.

Lauren fell back onto the mattress and stared up at the green canopy of the bed. Tears of hopelessness stung her eyes. She was exhausted and overwhelmed and not strong enough to cope with all of this.

_How was she going to get through all of this? _

Her thoughts drifted to Snape and his cruel words, and it was with a sudden revelation that she realized that in his underhanded way, he had been trying to provoke her to succeed. He knew that by making her angry enough, she would be even more determined to prove him wrong and excel. It was reverse psychology at its best.

Her own malicious remark came back to haunt her, and her guilt redoubled. Severus had been trying to help her and still was, if his speech to his students was any indication. Even after she had hurt him.

He was a complicated man who did things in a complicated and sly manner, that was for sure. Her anger was no longer a driving force, but her guilt now was. She was going to do whatever it took to get through this and be the best she could be.

She may not be brave like a Gryffindor, but she was a Slytherin. And, as a Slytherin, she would survive this with cunning and skill.

_And maybe get Snape through all of this alive, _a sly voice whispered in the back of her mind. It was an idea that was starting to take deep roots.

Was it possible? Was it possible to change things enough so that Snape would survive, but not change things enough to change the overall outcome of the War?

Lauren didn’t know, but she now had seven years to figure out a plan.


	5. Chapter 5

Lauren awoke many times during the never ceasing night. She stared helplessly up at the canopy of her bed as the reality of her situation crashed down upon her.

_No, this is not a dream. This is a nightmare, _she thought with increasingly growing depression as she willed herself to go back to sleep. _What am I going to do?_

She slept fitfully that night, a certain Potion Master predominantly taking center stage in her dreams. Each way she turned she glimpsed the hurt in those fathomless obsidian depths; a hurt she was responsible for causing with her callous words. Her guilt was all-consuming, even in sleep, and did not lessen as the night wore on. Yes, Severus Snape may have, in his own way, forgiven her, but he was not one to forget. And neither was she. She would never forget what she had said to him in a moment of rash anger.

Guilt, shame and fear consumed her, following her into sleep when she finally managed to drift off.

Sometime during the early morning something roused her from the murky tendrils of precious sleep, and she blinked blearily, her eyes trying to adjust to the green tinged hue of the Slytherin dormitory that made it almost impossible to discern whether it was morning or night.

It was a miracle that she managed not to let out an ear-splitting scream when her sights finally focused on two impossibly large blue eyes that were staring back at her.

Lauren scrambled back, her head hitting the headrest of her four-poster bed, her heart beating frantically in her chest as her scream caught in her throat, coming out unheard.

_What the blazing fuck!?_

She blinked, suddenly realizing what she was looking at. A house-elf.

_Certainly not an elf from Lord of the Rings, _she thought to herself as she stared at the creature.

The elf in question was a diminutive being of just over two feet tall. It’s arms and legs were long and spindly, and looked almost painfully thin. Two large, bat-like ears protruded from its bald head. A rounded, squashed nose and small mouth could be seen, but these features were dwarfed by the impossibly large eyes. The creature wore a clean, crisp white pillowcase that was tied around it like a toga, and Lauren could discern the Hogwarts emblem patched onto the fabric.

_A Hogwarts house-elf, _she realized.

“So sorry to bes waking yous, Mistress, but Blinky has message from Master Snape,” the elf said in hushed, though still shrill sounding voice as she spoke to Lauren.

Lauren, for her part, blinked stupidly. Finally the elf’s words penetrated her sluggish brain, which was still trying to catch up with the fact that she was actually seeing a real live house-elf. Then she snapped to attention and bolted up straight, almost bumping her head against the canopy of the bed.

“Snape?”

The elf’s head bobbed up and down eagerly, making its ears flap around its face.

Lauren swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, feeling thoroughly deep deprived. “What does he want?”

“Master Snape wants you to meets him in the Common Room. He…” the elf wrung its long-fingered hands in front of…him? Her? Lauren had no idea if the elf was male or female. “Master Snape says yous is not to keeps him waiting.”

If this had been anyone but Snape, Lauren would not have been concerned. But this was Snape, and she knew he would not tolerate her dawdling. She wouldn’t put it past him to come storming into her room and drag her out. Probably by the hair.

This thought caused her to clamber hastily out of bed. Lauren glanced wildly around, noting that the other four girls sharing this dorm room were still sound asleep, if their snores were any indication. She turned back to Blinky (the name giving no clue as to the gender of the elf).

“Did he say why he wanted to see me?”

“No, Miss. Just that you needs to meets him in the Common Room.”

“Okay, just let me get dressed quickly,” Lauren said, trying to keep her voice down so as not to wake her dorm mates. She searched around for her clothes, which she was sure had been discarded on the floor before she had climbed into bed last night.

“Where are my clothes?” she asked, panic starting to fill her.

“Theys were dirty, Miss. Blinky has taken thems to be washed. There is clean clothes in yours closest,” the elf replied in its squeaky voice.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” Lauren corrected.

“Yes, yous do. Blinky gots some fors you after Headmaster Dumbledore asked Blinky to do so.”

Lauren blinked back at the house-elf for a heartbeat and then stalked over to her closet that stood beside her bed, flinging open the door to reveal normal Muggle clothes that were her exact size folded neatly within.

_Girl size, _Lauren thought mulishly as she reached for a pair of faded blue jeans and a simple cornflower blue shirt.

Lauren turned to the see the elf watching her with eagerness. Blinky reminded Lauren of an overzealous puppy; she was even giving her the same puppy-dog eyes at this very moment as she awaited Lauren’s reaction.

“Thank you, Blinky,” Lauren said sincerely. “I really appreciate it. Can you please tell Professor Snape that I will be there in five minutes?”

She was grateful that Blinky did not burst into tears at being thanked - a thought that filled her with dread. Though, its large blue eyes did glisten with tears that threatened to flow at her simple thanks. Bowing low to the floor, Blinky straightened and then disappeared with a ‘pop’.

By sheer luck the sound of the elf Disapparating did not wake the occupants of the room.

Lauren hastily dressed and then noted a trunk placed at the foot of her bed. She glanced around and then knelt, flinging open the lid. Her breath caught when she realized that Dumbledore had come through, for there inside the truck were the various school supplies she was going to need. A cauldron, quills, ink bottles, scrolls and parchments and a pile of books needed for the curriculum.

And, folded neatly on top was her Hogwarts robes that bore the Slytherin crest on the breast; a symbol that she was now officially a student at the school. A symbol that she was once again a child and was indeed stuck in this world.

Dazedly, Lauren picked up the robe and pulled it over her head. Standing, she glanced over at the mirror that reflected back her image. She did not recognize the girl standing before her. This girl radiated innocence – something Lauren most definitely was not - and seemed incapable of facing the trials and tribulations yet to come.

_Worry about that later, _a sharp voice cut through her ruminating. _Snape is waiting for you!_

Lauren rushed to the bathroom and quickly brushed her hair and teeth before making her way to the Slytherin Common Room.

Professor Snape was waiting there for her, his back turned to her as he stood in front of the window that looked out into the fathomless depths of the lake. His long-fingered hands were clasped behind his back and his voluminous dark robes shrouded his form so that he stood like a dark silhouette of the night as he stood there.

Lauren paused, suddenly nervous as to the reception she was about to receive from this mercurial man. Steeling herself, she came to stand beside him. Snape didn’t deign to look down at her as he continued to glare at the shadowy images that could be glimpsed in the murky waters beyond.

“So…that was a house-elf,” she finally spoke up, trying to sound casual, but feeling anything but that inside.

Snape slowly turned his head to glance down at her, his obsidian eyes looking unnervingly soulless and his face void of all expression, unless you counted the ever-present scowl. He remained unnervingly silent as he stared down at her.

“Is Blinky a girl or a boy?” she blurted out.

Snape regarded her coolly. Finally he spoke. “Does it really matter?”

“I…guess not. It’s just really hard to tell, though, isn’t it?”

Severus sniffed disdainfully and turned abruptly on his heel. “Come,” he commanded over his shoulder as he strode purposely towards the exit.

Lauren’s heart fell. Yes, Snape was definitely holding onto his grudge, and no amount of apologizing was going to change that.

Lauren jogged after him. “Where are we going?”

“If you must know,” he drawled sardonically, “we are going to Diagon Alley to procure a wand for you.”

“Really?” For the first time, Lauren felt a thrill of excitement since she had arrived here.

“Yes, and the unpleasant task has befallen upon me to take you to Ollivander.”

“Oh? Why is that?” Lauren asked, slightly breathlessly as she struggled to keep up with him. “And for God’s sake! Can you please slow down!” she snapped, having quite enough of his attitude.

His jaw clenched but, surprisingly, he did slow his pace. As they walked up the spiraled staircase that would lead them to the main level of the castle, Snape finally answered her question, even though she hadn’t expected him to.

“The Headmaster seems to have gotten it in his head that you trust me, and therefore I am a more suitable choice in taking you _wand shopping_.” This last bit was said with such disdain that it left no doubt in Lauren’s mind that he was personally blaming her for having to endure this arduous task.

“Couldn’t the wand simply have been ordered? Do we really need to go there to pick one out?” she asked.

Snape lifted his hand to rub a tender spot on his forehead, not bothering to hide his impatience at her ignorance.

“No, you silly girl. One cannot simply order a wand. You need to be present for this. Wands are magical and…choose their Master or Mistress. The wrong wand, especially in your inexperienced hands, would be disastrous.”

“Right,” Lauren replied snippily, him calling her a silly girl still smarting.

Though she did recall something about wands choosing the witch or wizard, she still thought it silly. A wand wasn’t a living thing. It couldn’t possibly have a mind of its own to choose its Master or Mistress. Though…this was the world of Harry Potter and anything was possible, especially when magic was involved.

They left the staircase behind them and strode down the passage, passing the closed doors of the Great Hall. The castle was eerily silent and still, all the occupants within still asleep in their warm beds. Lauren envied them.

“Will the store even be open at this hour?”

“Dumbledore has made special arrangements with Ollivander. The wand maker is most keen to meet you.”

“I see,” was all Lauren could say. _Why did Ollivander want to meet her? Did Dumbledore tell him about her, or did he already know about her circumstance prior to his conversation with the Headmaster?_ Lauren didn’t know but she had a feeling she was soon going to find out.

They halted before the barred and obviously locked doors of the main doors of the Hogwarts castle. Severus withdrew his wand from the sleeve of his robes. Pointing the wand at the doors he muttered an incantation, the words she could not make out. The deadbolts sealing the door slid smoothly aside and Snape, after sheathing his was back in his sleeve, pushed the door open enough for them to exit the castle.

It was still dark out, the stars blinking feebly in the blackened night sky.

Snape closed the door behind them, and she could hear the bolts resealing the door once more from within. Severus brushed past her and stalked along the lawn. Lauren followed, shivering as the crisp, cool morning air penetrated through her robes, and she wished she had put on a sweater as well.

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” she huffed as she caught up with him, her arms clutched around her to stave off the cold.

Snape didn’t glance at her; his attention solely focused straight ahead. “I did not know that I was obligated to answer any of your questions,” he drawled, his voice gliding like silk along her goose bumped skin.

Lauren rolled her eyes, knowing full well how much Professor Snape enjoyed playing mind games with others. Each question needed to be answered with a question of his own or answered in such a way that it didn’t really answer the question to begin with.

She decided to ignore him and plunged ahead. “Is Blinky a girl or a boy?”

“And again I ask, does it really matter?”

Lauren smirked, thinking of Hermione’s attempt at S.P.E.W. She vaguely wondered what Snape’s reaction was going to be when that event occurred.

“Humor me.”

Snape cast his sights side longs at her, noting the visible smirk on her lips.

“Or maybe you can’t answer because you don’t know yourself,” she stated nonchalantly.

Snape halted so abruptly that Lauren almost walked right past him. She glanced over her shoulder at him, stilling when she saw the cold sneer replacing that unreadable mask that he had previously donned.

“Let me ask you a question of my own, Miss Ward,” he said, his voice soft but sounding all the more dangerous.

Lauren waited, not daring to speak.

Snape stalked towards her, his frame towering over her as he glared down at her.

“How much do you really know about me?”

Lauren swallowed hard, wondering how much was safe to reveal. “A bit,” she admitted.

This did not seem to appease him. In fact, it seemed to anger him even further. “Then you must know that I am exceptionally intelligent, having invented spells and potions of my own while you were still blundering through your mundane existence, unable to accomplish anything more than holding down a minimum wage job that would get you nowhere in life. I am the youngest Potion Master in Greater Britain; a feat that, I assure you, none have accomplished in a very long time.” He sneered coldly down at her as he continued. “Now tell me, what makes you think, in that little mind of yours, that I am unable to distinguish between a male or a female elf?”

Lauren felt her cheeks heat in both anger and shame, especially when he had pointed out her previously disappointing existence. True, she was nowhere near as intelligent as the man that stood before her, but he really didn’t have to make her feel so…small.

She felt tears sting her eyes, but she knew that crying would draw no sympathy from him. In fact, it would only cement in his mind that she was weak and pathetic.

Hurt was quickly replaced by anger and, in this very moment, she wanted nothing else but to hurt him just as he had hurt her. She opened her mouth to make a scathing remark about Lily Evans and how his actions had killed her. For all his wisdom, he had sure fucked up there.

But the memory from last night broke through her angered haze, along with the crippling guilt that came along with it. She couldn’t hurt him like that. Not again. Though, he was making it damn hard for her to stick with that resolve.

Lauren took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, well aware that Severus was watching her reactions intently. “Okay. You’ve proved your point. You’re really smart. So what is the answer?”

Something flickered in those fathomless depths, but it was unreadable. He regarded her silently for a few moments. Finally, when he spoke, his words were less cold.

“I shall not spoon feed you the answer, Miss Ward. You are Slytherin and need to start _thinking._”

Lauren frowned. Snape, malicious though he was, was trying to teach her. Probably. Maybe.

But she thought about it. What were the most discernable differences between a female house-elf and a male house-elf? She hadn’t a clue, Blinky being the first she had encountered. House-elves had high-pitched voices and had no discernable features like long lashes and hair to really tell their genders apart. Dobby and Kreacher had looked male-ish and had even sounded male in the movies. Then she thought about Blinky. There had been a certain feminine ‘feel’ to the elf. Lauren couldn’t explain it, but to her Blinky had ‘felt’ female.

Then another thought sprang to mind.

“Blinky is female,” Lauren stated firmly.

“Your reasoning?” Snape asked brusquely as he turned to continue their trek along the rolling lawns of Hogwarts. In the distance she could see the impenetrable tall stone fence, and which they seemed to be headed for.

“You asked her to come get me. I was in the girl’s dormitory. I don’t think you would have sent a male house-elf into the rooms of your female students.” Lauren crossed her fingers, hoping that Severus Snape at least had a sense of decorum, else she was very wrong indeed.

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost as though he were entertaining the idea of doing just that in the future, if only to prove her wrong.

“Am I right?” she asked.

All amusement disappeared from his features, replaced by a sour look. “Insufferably so. Now will you cease with all your annoying questioning. It is far too early to endure such needless chatter.”

Her grin broadened, inwardly celebrating her victory, but Lauren knew it would be unwise to speak again.

They finally reached the fence and Severus halted in front of a nondescript portion of it. Placing his palm flat against the rough stone, he muttered another incantation. The stone ground roughly together as they parted, leaving a hole big enough for them to step through. Snape nudge his head, indicating for her to go ahead. Lauren obeyed and once they were both on the other side, the stones closed up again.

“We are going to Apparate into Diagon Alley,” Snape explained, not at all patiently. “Take my arm and try not to throw up on me,” he warned darkly.

Lauren hesitated, but seeing the look on his features made her instantly jump to obey his command. She reached out and clutched tightly at the crook of his elbow. No sooner had she taken his arm than Snape spun on the spot.

The feeling was almost indescribable. Lauren felt immense pressure pushing against her from all sides, almost as though she were being squeezed into a hole that was way too small for her. Everything was black and she felt like her ears were going to pop any second as the pressure built. Her lungs were screaming for air and her stomach roiled violently against the horrible sensation.

And just when she thought she could endure no more, it suddenly stopped.

Lauren collapsed to her hand and knees and retched violently on the cobbled stone alleyway they had landed in. She didn’t care that Snape was probably standing behind her, glaring down at her with disdain. All she could think about was stopping the spinning sensation and bringing her queasiness under control.

A few moments later it passed, and Lauren rose shakily to her feet. A flutter of white entered her field of vision and she saw a pale, slender hand pushing a handkerchief under her nose. She silently took it and wiped her mouth, her shame flaming her cheeks red. She certainly wasn’t making a good impression on the Potion Master at all, she thought miserably.

“Almost everyone throws up when Apparating side-along for the first time,” he said factually, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. But there was no derision either.

Lauren nodded meekly and pocketed his handkerchief. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she lifted her head to meet his gaze.

He stared down his nose at her for a moment, assessing whether she was okay. Satisfied that she was, he turned on his heel and marched down the alleyway. Lauren followed close behind but made no effort to catch up and walk beside him.

The alley merged into Diagon Alley, which was currently deserted. Not even an alley cat was prowling in this early morning hour. The sky was lightening quite noticeably to that of a deep royal blue, a tinge of pink and gold peeking over the horizon as the sun readied to bring forth the new day.

They came upon a narrow and shabby store with peeling golden letters displaying the words: _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. _

Lauren peered at the display window, which was covered with a thick layer of dust, at the lone wand nestled upon a faded purple cushion.

Snape seemed unperturbed by the lack of upkeep and raised his hand to knock firmly on the wooden door. He stepped back to stand beside her as they waited.

It wasn’t long before the door opened to reveal Ollivander himself. He was just as Lauren remembered in the movies. An elderly, quiet-bearing man with a head of silvery, wayward hair and intelligent eyes set in a deeply lined face.

His attire, which consisted of a rust red suit and a cravat tied messily at his throat, was as shabby as his store’s appearance; almost as though he placed little to no importance on outer appearance.

“Mr. Ollivander,” Snape greeted, his deep voice hinting at neither warmth nor cordiality.

“Ah, Professor Snape,” Ollivander greeted back in his softly spoken voice. Then those wizened eyes wandered down to Lauren, narrowing as he studied her diminutive form. “Is this the student?”

“Miss Ward, yes,” Snape replied.

“Please, come in,” Ollivander said, stepping aside to let the two of them in.

Lauren paused once inside the dimly lit store, her gaze transfixed by the countless, narrow boxes that took up the entire back and side walls, reaching all the way to the ceiling. There were even haphazard piles on the floor that looked in danger of toppling over at any moment. A fine layer of dust coated the entire store, adding to the air of derelict.

But as Ollivander stepped behind the counter, something shifted in the air. Anticipation now permeated the air and Lauren felt the thrill of this magical store for the first time thrumming through her veins, forgetting her previous impression of its current state.

A gleam of restrained excitement entered Ollivander’s eyes as he regarded her, tapping thoughtfully at his chin as he thought carefully about which wand to give her first to try out.

“I think…” he started. Then the wand maker turned in a flurry, his wizened eyes scanning the rows upon rows of boxes, his bony fingers fluttering along each labelled one. “Ah, yes. I think,” he said, selecting a dusty box and turning to face her. “Cherry. Eleven and three quarters, and containing the hair of a unicorn,” he stated, sliding the box towards her.

Lauren tentatively picked up the wand. Somehow, odd as it was to say, it felt wrong to her touch; almost as though it was a glove that did not fit quite right. She held her breath and gave a flick of her wrist, her body instantly tensing. As expected, it did not go well. The lamp on the counter exploded spectacularly and Lauren ducked instinctively to avoid the shards of glass. Eyes wide, Lauren straightened and placed the wand back in its box.

Ollivander was unconcerned by his ruined lamp. “Hmm, maybe not,” he said as he selected another box. “Ash, ten inches and containing dragon heartstring.”

Lauren cast a nervous glance at Snape, but he was merely watching her, waiting for her to continue. She hesitantly picked up the wand and gulping, she flicked her wrist. This time she sent boxes flying violently from their slots, making all three of them duck out of the way as they crashed into various items.

Lauren cringed and put the wand back in the box, which was instantly replaced by another by Ollivander.

_I’m going to end up blowing up his entire store if I carry on, _she thought with trepidation as she picked up this wand.

Severus casually stepped back to meld into the shadows as he watched the scene from his comfortable spot against the wall while Lauren tried wand after wand after wand. Each one seemed more disastrous than the other.

She could not see his expression, but she thought that Snape was rather enjoying the destruction she was weaving. Admittedly, she was starting to enjoy herself. Where else could she cause this much destruction and get away with it? It was rather liberating.

After about the twenty-fifth wand (and many destroyed windows and lamps), Ollivander stepped back, his index finger back to tapping at his chin. Lauren watched him expectantly. Finally he turned and plucked another box from the far end wall, having to use the ladder to reach its lofty perch.

“Mahogany. Eleven inches containing the shavings from the horn of a Horned Serpent.”

Lauren had no idea if this made her wand unique or not, but as soon as she picked it up, she could immediately feel the difference. Her hand curled perfectly around it, as though it had been made just for her and her alone, and she could feel the accepting and welcoming feel of it. It was a weird and disconcerting sensation, but it was like the wand’s magic was calling to her own.

Lauren blinked, stunned at this revelation. Yes, she was a witch now and could do magic. And this was proof.

She looked up to see Ollivander peering eagerly down at her.

“This is the one,” she murmured in awe.

“Give it a flick then, dear,” he encouraged.

Lauren did as he asked. The boxes that she had sent flying earlier now floated gracefully through the air, coordinated and of a single mind. Her mind. A grin stretched on her lips at the sight, excitement coursing through her very veins.

_I’m doing magic! I’m actually doing magic! _Her mind squealed happily like a, well, like an eleven-year-old girl.

She glanced over at Snape. “Do you see that? I’m doing magic!”

Snape pushed away from his post at the wall and stepped into the dim light, looking for all the world unimpressed.

“About time. Now we can get going.”

Lauren rolled her eyes, unwilling to let him spoil her good mood. “Typical man. Hates shopping in any form.” She placed her wand back into the box and Snape stepped forward and dropped some coins into Ollivander’s hand. The wand maker’s hand absently curled around the coins; his attention more focused on Lauren.

“You are different…not quite what you appear…” he murmured, more to himself, though his words were heard plainly by all in the room. Lauren quickly glanced over at Snape, but his features were carefully guarded. Ollivander blinked, coming out of his reverie. “Yes, very peculiar. Well, Miss Ward, I have a feeling this wand will serve you well…” Again he trailed off, a slight frown etched on his spectacularly bushy brows as he regarded her.

“We shall be off,” Snape cut in, leaving no room for argument as he guided Lauren to the door, his hand on the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing that Ollivander was still peering at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher.

She and Severus made their way back to the alley, Lauren clutching her wand box to her chest.

“That was weird,” she muttered. She glanced up at Snape. “Do you think he could foresee something?”

Snape scoffed. “Ollivander does not have the gift of prophecy.” His lip curled back in disgust, and she had the feeling he was thinking of Professor Trelawney at that very moment. “Very few do.”

“So what was up with his odd behavior?”

“No idea,” he remarked curtly as they arrived at the Apparation point. He extended his arm, waiting for her to take his elbow once again. Lauren inwardly cringed. Not because it was Snape, but because she knew she was going to have to endure the Apparating process again. Her whole body rebelled at the idea.

“I am waiting, Miss Ward,” he snapped.

Lauren sucked in a deep breath and reluctantly looped her arm through his own. Instantly she was thrown back into the unpleasant sensation, and she closed her eyes tightly, willing this all to be over quickly.

They landed back on the outskirts of Hogwarts, and if she hadn’t been clutching so tightly at Severus’ arm, she would have sagged to the ground again. She gasped and gagged, but thankfully did not throw up this time, though her stomach roiled, threatening to do so.

Snape, oddly, waited for her to compose herself, making no move to extricate himself from her grasp.

Lauren finally straightened up and let her hand fall from his arm. She glanced around and saw that it was now early morning, the cornflower blue sky splashed with rays of gold and orange.

“Before I forget, here is a copy of your timetable,” Snape said, handing her a square piece of parchment. Lauren glanced at it briefly and then pocketed it with a murmured thanks. Snape regarded her for another moment and, satisfied that she had recovered well enough from the Apparating experience, stalked to the stone wall.

They walked up to the castle in silence and when they reached the front doors, Snape opened them and ushered her in, letting her precede him. For all his callousness, he certainly could act the gentleman when he wanted to.

“You should collect your school supplies from your room and then head to the Great Hall and eat some breakfast. You’ll find you will feel much better with something in your stomach,” he stated, his tone somehow warmer as he stared down at her with those penetrating dark eyes.

Lauren nodded and made a move to head back to the Slytherin dormitory.

“Miss Ward?”

She paused and glanced back at him.

He closed the distance and stood before her. “I will give you this piece of advice. You are going to be the subject of much curiosity and idle gossip, something one cannot escape in a school full of mindless miscreants. Have you thought about how you are going to handle it?”

Lauren thought over his question. “I am not exactly new to malicious gossip and stares, and I found ignoring it was the most successful approach in the past. My tactic, I suppose, would be to treat the gossip with indifference. If I show that it doesn’t bother me, it will make people less inclined to continue.”

Snape gave a nod of approval. “Very well,” was all he said, though and he offered no other words of advice. He made to turn, but Lauren called after him.

“Professor Snape?”

He arched a dark brow, waiting for her to continue.

“Does your offer still stand?”

He frowned for a moment before he realized what she was asking, and he gave a single nod. “It does.”

Lauren gave him a small smile. Snape had just confirmed that she could still come to him for help and advice. Even though he was still angry at her, he was willing to help her.

“Thank you,” she said before turning and heading back to her dormitory. She didn’t glance back, or else she would have seen his dark eyes following her until she was out of sight.


	6. Chapter 6

Lauren hastily made her way back to her dorm. The castle was now starting to bustle with activity as students made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, their laughter and excitement bouncing against the stone halls. Lauren steadfastly ignored the startled stares and hushed whispers that followed in her wake as she as she walked by, determinedly making her way back to her dorm room while clutching her wand box tight to her chest.

Outwardly she portrayed the perfect picture of calm and indifference, but the reality was that her situation was fast becoming very real, crashing down on her like a crushing wave. She was now, for all purposes, a student and stuck in Hogwarts. There was no escape.

She had to fight the irrational urge to sprint out the front gates and never return. But what good would that do? She would still be stuck in a world she didn’t know without any way to return to her own world. And then there was still the fact that she was an eleven-year-old. All she could do was hope that Dumbledore soon found a solution to get her out of this nightmare.

_He’d better hurry up, _she thought mulishly as she quickened her pace. _I don’t know how much more of this I can endure._

By the time she entered the Slytherin Common Room, it was mostly deserted, with only a handful of stragglers who had overslept hastening to get to the Great Hall. She wasted no time and headed straight to her dorm room to grab her backpack and supplies, her actions lacking enthusiasm at the prospect of beginning her new life as a student all over again.

When she entered the room, she immediately noticed that one of her dorm mates was there - a young witch with dark brown hair that was cut into a blunt bob that brushed against her small shoulders. She had her backpack slung over her shoulders and looked as though she had been just about to leave when Lauren entered.

“Oh! Sorry,” Lauren mumbled. “I was just going to get dressed and grab my stuff before heading down to breakfast,” she stated, unsure as to why she was offering an explanation to the young girl.

“I…can wait for you,” the girl said timidly. “If you want.” She paused, and then added, “I’m Tracey by the way. Tracey Davis.”

Lauren was caught by surprise at her offer, and as she stared at her she couldn’t remember Tracey being of any significance in any of the movies or books. Her name didn’t ring a bell.

_She can’t be part of Pansy Parkinson’s gang then, _Lauren thought, somewhat relieved. She had no desire to have any association with those bullies if she could help it.

“Nice to meet you Tracey, but you don’t have to wait for me. You’ll be late for breakfast,” Lauren said, deciding that Tracey might not be so bad after all.

The young girl looked unsure of herself as she glanced at the door and then back at Lauren. Lauren realized that she looked rather lost and had probably offered the invitation more for herself than for Lauren. Lauren could relate, being the social outcast herself as a child. Making friends had never been easy for her, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the other girl. Though, she did wonder why the others hadn’t waited for Tracey. She was, after all, a Slytherin.

_Maybe it’s something else_…

“But I would appreciate the company,” Lauren continued. “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

Tracey gave her a solemn nod, though Lauren glimpsed a flash of relief in her chocolate brown eyes.

“I’m Lauren,” Lauren stated absently as she took a quick glance at her timetable and then packed the required textbooks she would need for her lessons today. She noted with disappointment that the Slytherin’s had no Potion lessons today, though tomorrow would be a double session with the Gryffindors.

“Yes, I was there when Professor Snape introduced you last night.”

“Oh, right,” Lauren replied, flushing embarrassedly at her faux pas. She hurriedly dressed in the Hogwarts school uniform, flinging her robes over them. Zipping up her backpack, she joined Tracey at the door, pocketing her newly purchased wand in the process. She glanced up to see Tracey watching her, curiosity burning brightly in those solemn eyes.

“Is that where you were? Getting your wand?” she enquired.

Lauren nodded. “Yes. Professor Snape took me.”

Tracey didn’t seem surprised by this piece of information, or maybe she didn’t think it important. “The other girls were wondering where you had disappeared to this morning.”

“Why didn’t they wait for you?” Lauren asked as they made their way to the Great Hall, climbing the winding staircase as fast as their short legs could take them.

Tracey ducked her head, her pale cheeks flushing. Her body language screamed of discomfiture and Lauren frowned, sure she was missing something vital.

“What’s wrong, Tracey?” she asked gently, hoping to coax the girl into revealing what was troubling her.

Tracey drew in a deep breath through her nose and exhaled before meeting Lauren’s enquiring gaze, her features pinched in a manner that suggested that what she was about to reveal wasn’t exactly pleasant. “I’m a half-blood.”

Lauren blinked. Then she blinked again, wondering why, of all the things she had imagined to be wrong, this was the thing that was causing Tracey the most distress. “So?”

Tracey frowned at the offhanded remark. “Most Slytherin’s are pure-blood, Lauren.”

“Most, but not all,” Lauren pointed out.

“You don’t understand. Even though half-bloods are accepted amongst Slytherins, we’ll never be considered pure enough.”

_What a load of hogwash! _

“But you’re still good enough to be part of the club.”

“Maybe, but Millicent, Daphne and Pansy are all pure-blood,” Tracey remarked bitterly.

The penny dropped then. _That’s why the girls had not waited for Tracey. She wasn’t pure enough for their gang._

“Does that make them any better than us?” Lauren asked, feeling righteous indignation on Tracey’s behalf.

Tracey glanced sharply up at her, her eyes widening in surprise as she realized what Lauren had just said. “Does that mean you’re not pure-blood?”

_Oops. I wasn’t supposed to reveal that. Snape is so going to skin me alive for my blunder._

“No idea,” Lauren said with a casual shrug, covering her error with ease. “I grew up in a Muggle orphanage, but I have no idea if I’m pure-blood, half-blood or Muggle-born.” She stared straight ahead as she spoke, but then glanced back at Tracey. “Does that bother you?”

Tracey regarded her; her expression unnervingly serious. Finally, after deliberation, she asked, “Does it bother you that I’m half-blood?”

“Nope,” Lauren immediately replied. _What bothers me is that I’m making friends with an eleven-year-old girl. How did my life come to this?_

Tracey gave Lauren a small, tight-lipped smile, but even though guarded, this gesture was genuine. “Then it does not bother me what your blood status is.”

Lauren grinned back at her, though inwardly she was disconcerted at how serious this girl was. It wasn’t right for a child so young to be so somber and uptight.

_I’ll sort that out soon enough. I’ll have her swearing like a sailor in no time…if I can ever lift this blasted spell Dumbledore put on me! _

Her anger swelled to epic proportions once again at what the Headmaster had done. Swearing was second nature to her; an outlet for all her pent-up emotions and anger. Dumbledore may have had good intentions taking that away, but it had only served to piss her off. And a pissed off Lauren was not a good thing. Though, knowing Dumbledore, he would only find her ire amusing.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know how to lift a spell that prevents someone from swearing?” she asked casually.

Tracey chewed on her inner cheek as she thought about the question. “No, sorry. Why do you ask?”

Lauren sighed. “Dumbledore cast a spell that prevents me from using bad words.”

Tracey pressed her lips together, and Lauren had the impression that she was trying not to laugh at the sullen look that was surely fixed on Lauren’s face. It wasn’t long before a giggle escaped her lips.

_What was that phrase Severus used? Oh yes…Impudent girl! _Lauren thought to herself, though without heat. _Now Lauren, that’s no way to make friends, _her rare voice of reason reminded her, even as she begrudgingly smiled along with Tracey.

Soon they reached the doors of the Great Hall. Both girls paused, and glanced at each other, Tracey looking at her with a certain sense of trepidation and nervousness. Lauren was sure she had a look of someone resigned to their fate.

_Might as well get it over with._

Talking Tracey by the elbow, she guided the other girl into the crowded room.

As they made their way to the Slytherin table, it was unsurprising that the stares and whispers she had encountered earlier on had started up again. Lauren put a mask firmly in place, acting unperturbed as she walked to her destination.

_What is that saying? Act like you belong and nobody will notice you…_Lauren repeated this mantra to herself as she marched with purpose to the Slytherin, Tracey in tow. _Well, I think that saying is bullshit! They’re all still staring at me. Oh well._

Having gone through High School once before already, Lauren had perfected the art of ignoring the whispers and looks that followed her, and this time was no different.

Surprisingly, the Slytherins gave her warm welcoming smiles at their approach, and Lauren thanked her lucky stars that Snape’s little speech from last night had made a difference in their attitude towards her. If it weren’t for him who knows what her welcome would have been like. _Probably full of unmasked suspicion._

There were two spaces available, regrettably, right next to Draco and his shadows, Crabbe and Goyle.

Lauren settled down next to the blonde boy, Tracey sitting on the other side of her, and she wasted no time dishing up some eggs, toast and sausages onto her plate, before pouring up a generous cup of tea in an attempt to rejuvenate her fatigued body. Draco, thankfully, barely took notice of her, as he was busy conversing with his two compatriots in earnest whispers.

Taking an appreciative sip of the hot infusing beverage, Lauren chanced a glance up at the Head Table, her eyes automatically drawn to the dark figure of Severus Snape. He was buttering a slice of toast. He must have sensed that she was watching him, for he slowly lifted his gaze to lock eyes with hers. He arched a brow in a silent enquiry, his dark eyes boring right into the darkest recesses of her soul. It was a haughty gesture meant to unnerve her, and it was working.

Lauren was about to look away from his penetrating gaze, but her attention was caught by the person sitting beside the Potion Master – Professor Quirrell. Her whole body froze when she realized that he, too, was watching her with a shrewd and calculating look writ on his features. It was an expression that made the very blood in Lauren’s veins run cold.

The last thing she needed was to come to the attention of none other than the monstrosity leeched onto the back of the Professor’s head, hidden under that garish turban.

_I’m going to need to keep a low profile, _she thought as a chill raced down her spine. _Do not get involved in events and do not draw attention to yourself. The last thing I need is Voldemort’s interest centered on me…_

She tore her gaze away and glanced back at Snape, who was now frowning at her. He must have glimpsed some of her anxiety, for he slowly turned his head and surreptitiously regarded Professor Quirrell, who was still watching her. Then he turned his attention back to her, a brow arched ever so delicately in silent question. Lauren swallowed hard and gave an imperceptible nod of her head. An unreadable mask fell over his features like a veil, but Lauren knew that he was now suspicious of Quirrell and would be on his guard from here on out.

_Good. _

“Just look at him,” Draco’s hissed beside her side, snapping her out of the moment. She glanced over at Draco, who was glaring daggers in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Lauren didn’t need to be psychic to know that Draco was referring to none other than Harry Potter. “He thinks he’s so special. What’s so special about him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing!” he snarled.

Lauren looked over at the Gryffindor table and saw that Harry and Ron were conversing together like two regular boys. The bushy haired Hermione was sitting further down the table from the duo, having not been included into the friendship just yet.

Lauren turned her attention back to Draco, startled at the venomous look contorting his features into an ugly mask.

_He’s jealous. Draco is jealous of Harry, _she realized with a start._ Interesting. Draco comes from wealth and prestige, and has everything a young boy could possibly wish for. Yet here he is, acting all resentful._

Draco turned his head and caught her staring at him.

“What do you think, Ward?” he suddenly asked, his tone lacking the usual snarky bite that he seemed to reserve just for Harry. Instead, he seemed genuinely interested in her opinion.

Lauren wanted to tell him he was acting like a slimy little git, but wisely held her tongue, which was a miracle in itself. Draco was not someone she wanted to get on the wrong side of, even though she didn’t particularly like him.

_I need to play this like a Slytherin._

She gave a nonchalant shrug, turning back to her food. “I think you have nothing to worry about.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Who says I’m worried?”

Lauren suppressed her smirk. _Oh yes, he’s definitely worried. _She bit into her toast and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, thinking that it was a pity that she couldn’t give in to the temptation to rile him up. Then, turning her attention once more to Draco, she answered. “What I’m trying to get at, Draco, is that Harry Potter is famous by name only. It will soon come to light that he possesses no real talent and his celebrity status will soon wear off when everyone realizes that. Give it a few weeks and he’ll be a nobody.”

Draco stared back at her for a moment and then he suddenly grinned at her, his white teeth flashing brilliantly. “I like you, Ward.”

_Well, I don’t particularly like you, Ferret Boy, _she thought, struggling to keep her features neutral. _But I’m going to have to play nice. _

Thankfully, she was saved from a response by the movement of students rising from their benches, getting ready for their first lesson of the day.

Standing, Lauren fished out her own timetable and inwardly groaned when she saw that her first subject for today was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As she and Tracey exited the Great Hall, followed behind by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, Lauren glanced over her shoulder just before they reached the doors. She was disappointed to see that Severus was gone, as had all the other teachers.

_I really need to talk to him about Quirrell. At least give him some sort of heads up. But if his suspicions are already aroused, then I’m sure he’s going to be on guard. _This thought comforted her somewhat as she headed to class, though she made it a priority to talk to him at the end of the day.

~oOo~

Defense Against the Dark Arts was dismal, in her opinion. Quirrell put on quite the act of being a nervous, jittery, stuttering Professor, but she had expected at least something more from his lessons at least. All he did was instruct them to read from their textbooks instead of teaching them anything practical or useful.

Lauren studiously took notes as she read, though she could feel his gaze trained on her the entire time. But whenever she glanced up, he was looking elsewhere, and she couldn’t be sure if she had imagined it or not. Though instinct told her that she was not imagining it at all. Lauren didn’t like it one bit and she determined to speak to Snape as soon as possible.

The rest of the lessons went by fairly well. McGonagall was strict, yet reasonably fair. Flitwick was quirky and proved to be quite a fun teacher. All-in-all, the lessons held her attention and Lauren found that she was rather enjoying being back at school. Well, Hogwarts school at least, learning magic. Surprisingly, she noted that she wasn’t the only one struggling to cast simple spells and charms. All of them, including the Slytherins from pure-blood backgrounds were also having difficulty. That included Draco, much to her delight.

_Maybe I will have a chance of succeeding at this, _she thought, hope blooming in her heart.

By the time the last lesson of the day rolled around, though, she had a splitting headache, her adult mind no longer used to being back in student mode. It didn’t help either that she had already been handed heaps of homework to trudge through. And those stairs…if only they would stop moving, determined to get them lost.

_And those blasted dunderheads are still staring! _She thought peevishly as she and Tracey passed yet another group of students pointedly staring at her, whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves.

As they descended to the dungeons, Lauren turned to Tracey.

“You go on. I just need to speak to Professor Snape for a moment.”

“I can wait outside if you want,” Tracey offered.

Lauren shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I don’t know how long this is going to take. I’ll catch up with you and then we can tackle some of this homework together.”

Tracey nodded in agreement and left. Lauren watched her leave, a sense of fondness already developing. Tracey wasn’t all that bad and Lauren found she quite like the girl’s quiet demeanor.

Lauren squared her tiny shoulders and made her way to the Potions classroom. The passageway was silent and devoid of any souls, unless you counted the ghost of the Bloody Baron floating by in silvery, luminous silence.

She paused before the door and then raised her hand, giving the wood a sharp knock. The sound echoed loudly and hollowly all around her.

“Enter,” came the sharp command from the other side.

Lauren turned the handle and entered to classroom, finding Professor Snape seated at his desk and eyeing a vial of potion in his long-fingered hand, his obsidian eyes narrowed intently as he studied the liquid within. Lauren approached him, but he did not acknowledge her in the slightest. Finally he placed the vial back down on his desk and marked a grade next to a name written on a sheet of paper, the bright red ink looking vicious especially paired with his spidery handwriting.

“Miss Ward,” he drawled, still not looking up at her as he wrote.

“Professor Snape,” she greeted back. “Do you have time for a…private conversation?” she asked cryptically, hoping he would cotton on.

Snape lifted his gaze and eyed her before placing his quill back down on the desk. “How is your wand working out?” he enquired, sounding unnaturally conversational as he drew his wand from his sleeve and gave it a subtle flick, causing the door behind her to shut with a resounding _bang_. She guessed he had also cast a Muffliato Charm as well so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

“Good so far. I halfway managed to turn a match into a needle, though the blasted thing caught fire,” she replied, grimacing at the memory.

The corners of Severus’ thin lips twitched ever so slightly and then he reverted back to his usual persona, which was prickly at best. “What brings you to my office, Miss Ward?” he asked in all seriousness now, steepling his fingers in front of him as he leaned back in his chair.

“Quirrell,” she replied simply.

He regarded her a moment, his features remaining guarded.

“You know something.” This was not a question.

“Yes.”

“Then need I remind you that you have been warned to stay out of events and under no circumstance are you to interfere or reveal any pertinent information,” Snape warned, his deep voice making her shiver. And not in a good way.

“I know that,” she huffed, refraining from rolling her eyes at the fact that he would think her so stupid. “But he seems to have taken a particular interest in me.”

“That reaction is to be expected considering your spectacular entrance into our midst last night.”

This time Lauren did roll her eyes at him.

“Careful, Miss Ward,” he said, his voice still even, but there was an undercurrent of danger to his words. “I will hex you so that you will be permanently crossed-eyed if you continue to roll your eyes at me.”

“Well it’s hard not to roll my eyes at you when you’re being a particular dunderhead!”

“Twenty points from Slytherin for insolence.” He leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk. A menacing glint had entered those eyes and Lauren knew she was treading on thin ice with this mercurial man. But her temper was just as volatile as his and she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“I really couldn’t give two sweet flying Flamingoes-” Lauren grimaced at the word Dumbledore had chosen to replace the words ‘fuck’. _Of course he would pick something ridiculous! _Ignoring the smug smirk curling Snape’s lips, Lauren barreled on. “…about the point system. I’m trying to stay out of everything and not change things, but it’s kinda hard to do that when Quirrell’s sights are now set on me.” She gripped the edge of his desk as she ranted.

She could see by the condescending look now visible on Severus’ face that he thought her claim absurd.

“Why aren’t you taking me seriously?”

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re acting like a petulant…_child_,” he sneered.

Lauren glared daggers at him.

“_I’m not a child!” _she hissed through clenched teeth. “And would you just take a minute to listen to my concerns, you Beetlejuice?!”

They glared at each other, the desk the only thing separating them.

Finally, Snape sighed and asked. “And which person was his sights supposed to be on?”

“Not a person. A thing,” she replied.

This statement immediately had Snape’s full attention and he sat up straighter in his chair, darkness shadowing his pale features.

Lauren waved her hand dismissively. “Yes. Yes. I know about the Philosopher’s Stone and all the safeguards set in place. Safeguards that, coincidently, seem to be made specifically for a certain someone.” She arched her brow disapprovingly at him before continuing. “By the way – nice riddle.”

“Enough!” he shouted, his voice an ominous thunder cloud hovering over them. He pushed away from his desk and, standing to his full and formidable height, continued, “The Headmaster warned you about revealing anything -”

Lauren felt her temper flare and cut him off. “I’m not revealing anything you don’t already know!”

His nostrils flared as he vainly tried to rein in his own temper. “Be that as that may, you running around and talking about these things is not wise. Do you want Dumbledore to Obliviate you?”

“At this point it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Then maybe I can forget that I’m an adult trapped in a child’s body!” She drew in a deep breath and then muttered under her breath, “And maybe I can forget what an ass you really are!”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. He had obviously heard her last statement. They glared at each other, both too stubborn and strong-willed to back down.

_Oh, this is going to get us nowhere._

Lauren groaned in both frustration and defeat. “Fine, I’ll say no more on it, but what do I do about Quirrell?”

“Nothing.”

“Pardon? What do you mean nothing? What if he tries something –.”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on him,” Snape interrupted, his tone even and controlled.

Lauren stared up at him, wondering if the Potion Master would be enough, especially considering who Quirrell really was.

As though reading her thoughts, Snape continued. “Try not to find yourself in a situation alone with him from now on. And don’t draw any attention to yourself.”

That didn’t sound like much advice to Lauren, but she kept her thoughts to herself. There was only so much Snape could do. It’s not like he would be able to follow her around all day to protect her, this she knew.

“Now get out. You have tried my patience enough already,” he snapped.

_Fine by me. I’ve had enough of you as well._

She turned on her heel to leave but stopped when a thought occurred to her. True, she was very angry with him at the moment, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything to happen to him.

“Professor Snape?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

He stared back at her; his demeanor frosty. “What?”

“I know I’m not supposed to reveal anything concerning future events, but can I at least give you some advice?”

He calculatingly considered her request, and then gave a small nod of his head.

“Do not, under any circumstance, reveal your true allegiance.” If Voldemort even had an inkling that Severus was on the side of Light, it would not bode well for him in the future when Snake Face returned to full power.

His expression remained unreadable, but she caught a flash of astonishment in those intelligent dark eyes. As fast as she had glimpsed it, though, it was immediately gone.

_That is why he is the penultimate spy, _she thought to herself. _He reveals absolutely nothing._

“Very well. Now get out!” he ordered, flinging his arm out and pointing a finger towards the door. His patience with her had now run out.

Bristling by his abrupt attitude, Lauren huffed. “Fine! I’m leaving…_Sir._” _Honestly, would it be so hard for him to show even a tiny bit of gratitude at my warning?_

_Evidently not, _she thought bitterly as she slammed the door shut behind her and made her way back to the Slytherin Common Room, dreading the prospect of now having to tackle her mountain of homework in her current mood.

_What did I do to deserve all this? _She raged internally.

Suddenly the memory of hazy dark figure looming over her flooded her mind, its hand raised as though ready to strike. Lauren stuttered to a standstill, confusion and a spike of fear flooding her. But the more she tried the focus on the memory, the more it slipped out of focus, like trying to grasp at the curling tendrils of fog. And then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

Shaking her head, Lauren continued walking. By the time she reached the Common Room, the memory had completely faded from her mind, forgotten as though it had never been.


	7. Chapter 7

Lauren awoke to someone insistently shaking her awake.

“Lauren. It’s time to get up,” a matter-of-fact voice commanded.

Lauren responded by groaning annoyedly and shoving her pillow over her head. Next thing she knew her snuggly thick and warm blanket was being yanked off her quite viciously, exposing Lauren to the chill that seemed to permanently permeate the dungeons.

Lauren sat straight up in indignation and glared daggers at the offender, who happened to be none other than Tracey. Tracey, for her part, seemed quite unperturbed by the murderous look Lauren was shooting in her direction.

“Time to get up. Our first lesson is Potions and you don’t want to be late for _that. _Professor Snape, from what I’ve heard, is very strict.”

There were other more apt words that could best describe Snape, and Lauren thought that Tracey hadn’t quite captured the true essence of his personality. Personally, she would have chosen ‘complete and utter arse’, but that was her opinion.

Knowing that Tracey was right (and probably wouldn’t let up until Lauren got out of bed), Lauren sighed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before stretching widely, which was accompanied by a massive yawn. Then she glanced around the room and noticed the other girls were also getting ready, in various stages of dress. Tracey was already in her uniform, which was neatly pressed, and her hair was perfectly brushed to a shiny sheen. By all outer appearances, Tracey was well put together.

Knowing there was no getting out of it, Lauren stood and grimaced when she caught sight of her reflection in the long mirror. Her long wavy hair was a complete mess, making it look as though she attempted to stick a knife in a plug socket. Not a pretty sight.

Tracey busied herself by packing her backpack while Lauren dressed and brushed her teeth and hair, the last being the most difficult task to manage. The other girls kept glancing her way as she growled and muttered darkly as the brush kept snagging on knots. Lauren was not a morning person by nature, and it was best not to approach her before she had her first cup of tea; something the other girls seemed to sense for none dared speak to her.

Finally managing to make her hair look respectable enough to go out in public, Lauren hastened to ready her backpack for today’s lessons, shoving the textbooks in forcibly.

“Ooh. We have double Potions with the Gryffindors this morning,” Pansy piped up as she studied her timetable, her pug-like face alight with devilish glee as she glanced up at the other girls. “I can’t wait to see how Professor Snape deals with them. Especially Potter.”

Lauren snorted, causing Pansy, Daphne and Millicent’s head to swivel in her direction. Tracey was also watching her from her post at the foot of her bed, her features set in a solemn mask as she observed the scene playing out before her.

“Is something funny, Ward?” Pansy sneered. Lauren did not miss the antagonistic tone in the other girl’s voice, nor the use of her last name.

Lauren zipped up her backpack and stood, rounding on Pansy. She was still seething from having been woken up way too early and was in right foul mood. Pansy’s snootiness towards her was rubbing Lauren’s own abrasive personality the wrong way, and she found she wanted nothing more than to get into a fight with the other girl and release some pent-up anger.

Pansy, seeing the look on Lauren’s face, unconsciously took a step back, and Lauren felt a smirk curling on her lips at her reaction.

Then her inner voice, which sounded remarkably like Severus Snape, came to the forefront, pushing back her temper.

_You need to keep a low profile, Lauren. Starting a fight is not going to help your cause, especially with your fellow Slytherins. You need to play this with cunning. Play this like a Slytherin._

Lauren rolled her eyes, more to herself than Pansy. She really didn’t feel like playing nice, especially not this early in the morning, but she was going to have to. She couldn’t afford to make enemies with this lot.

“Oh, there’s loads that I find funny, Pansy, but I will say this. Knowing Snape, he’s going to give us quite the show as he knocks down Potter a peg or two - something I’m sure you and all of us will find deliciously amusing.”

The two girls stared at each other. Then Pansy slowly smiled; the expression doing nothing to make her appearance more appealing. “Yes, and I can’t wait to see it!” Then she gave a nod at Lauren before turning to her two other friends, gesturing for them to join her for breakfast.

Once they had left, Tracey spoke up. “You shouldn’t provoke her, Lauren,” she said, ever the voice of reason. She reminded Lauren of a darker and more serious version of Hermione Granger. Thankfully, Tracey was not as aggravating as the Gryffindor know-it-all.

“Is that what I was doing? For a minute I thought it was a pissing contest and I was showing her that I would not be bullied, not by her nor anyone else. I think she and I have come to an understanding,” Lauren replied off-handedly as she hoisted her backpack over her shoulder, the books within weighing it down heavily.

Tracey regarded her thoughtfully but decided to drop it.

As they made their way to the Great Hall, Lauren kept yawing widely.

“I take it you’re not a morning person,” Tracey remarked as they passed a group of students who had begun whispering amongst themselves when they spotted Lauren. Lauren flipped them a rude hand gesture (something she was delighted to find she was able to do, though she suspected that if Dumbledore ever found out he would cast another spell on her to put an end to that) and they continued on their way.

“Nope. Not in the least. And it didn’t help that we were up until midnight doing homework.” Then a thought struck Lauren and she groaned loudly.

“What is it?” Tracey asked.

“We’ve got Potions. Professor Snape is bound to give us even more homework than Professor McGonagall.” Which was saying a lot.

“At least we have the weekend to get through it all,” Tracey pointed out, which earned a disbelieving look from Lauren.

“I don’t know about you, but I can think of better ways to spend my weekend than doing homework.”

“Like what?”

“Sleeping.”

Tracey shook her head but was smiling regardless.

They made it to the Great Hall and headed straight to the Slytherin table, which was crowded with students. Lauren sat down heavily and proceeded to pour herself a cup of tea, almost gulping it down in one go.

“I’m surprised you don’t drink coffee,” Tracey remarked as she buttered her toast. “It would probably wake you up better than tea would.”

Lauren poured another cup of tea and stifled a yawn behind her hand. “I suppose it would, but I only drink it when -.” _I’m hungover, _she thought, but wisely did not say that out loud. “-necessary.”

Feeling a bit more lively, Lauren dished up some toast and eggs onto her plate, dipping the toast in the runny golden yolks. As she chewed on her mouthful, her gaze drifted up towards the staff table. Thankfully, Quirrell was not watching her. In fact, he seemed to be making a conscious effort to avoid looking in her direction and was instead focused on eating his food.

_Did Severus say something to him? Did he somehow warn Quirrell off? _she pondered, finding Quirrell’s sudden lack of supposed interest disconcerting.

She let her gaze drift over to the dark Potion Master, who was currently nursing a mug between his hands, staring intently at the liquid within. His black hair half obscured his features, though it did nothing to hide the ever-present dark scowl, and Lauren noted that he looked about as tired as she felt. She wondered if he was not a morning person like herself.

_If that’s the case, I had best avoid him in the mornings._

The bell sounded and all the students rose from their seats and headed to their respective classes, the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins making their way down to the dungeons. They waited outside the Potions classroom, the Gryffindors lining one side of the passage and the Slytherins lining the other side. The gulf between them felt like a huge gaping void, with not one person willing to breach the gap.

Lauren used the opportunity while they waited to study the Gryffindors. They were a lively and rambunctious group that seemed to always be laughing and joking amongst themselves, though right now they looked rather nervous and pensive – Snape’s reputation no doubt having preceded him.

She spotted Harry and Ron standing together, conversing quietly, their heads bowed and almost touching. She let her gaze wander and was startled by the realization that while she had been observing them, a large portion of the Gryffindors had been curiously watching her. They had quickly averted their gazes when Lauren caught them looking.

Before Lauren could think any more of it, the door to the Potion classroom opened, swinging silently on its hinges, and Snape’s deep, rich voice from within called out, “Enter.”

The Slytherins did not hesitate and filed in, choosing the left side of the room. The Gryffindors followed shortly after and took up the other half of the room. Supreme silence reigned as they waited.

Professor Snape stood like a dark and foreboding shadow in front of his desk, the layers upon layers of black giving this impression. His very presence commanded attention and respect.

He waited until all were seated before he began. With an elegant flick of his wrist, a parchment appeared in his hand and he proceeded to call out the names on the register.

When he reached Harry’s name, his thin lips curled in a condescending sneer. “Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_.” The word had been emphasized with such disdain that no one could doubt Snape’s open dislike and animosity for the Boy Who Lived. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered amongst themselves.

Lauren suddenly felt nervous, wondering if Severus was going to speak to her with just as much venom when he reached her name. Last night, after all, had been pretty tense and they hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms.

But when he called out her name and she answered with an affirmative, Snape merely peered at her for a moment, his dark eyes boring into her, though his expression remained unreadable.

Then he glanced back down at his list and continued with his roll call. Lauren let out the breath she had been holding, thanking all deities in existence that he had decided not to pick on her. When Snape was done, he flicked his wrist again and the sheet of parchment disappeared.

Straightening to his full height, Snape folded his arms in front of him, glaring down his nose at the students before him. His dark eyes glinted like hard obsidian and none dared stir under his scrutiny.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he stated, his rich voice slithering across their senses like silk on steel. Lauren sat up straighter in her chair. She had always loved hearing this particular speech, and now she hung on every word as he spoke. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…” He paused, his penetrating gaze lingering on each of them as his softly spoken words entranced them even more. “I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -.” This time he gave a dramatic pause and when he spoke again, his words were hard and brittle. “– if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach!”

His gaze flickered to hers and Lauren swallowed thickly, knowing he was still seething at her calling him a dunderhead last night. Looking back, it hadn’t been the best judgement call.

_I wonder how much of my blood he intends to spill today…_

Snape turned abruptly on his heel, his message now received, and rounded on poor Harry. He proceeded to fire questions at the boy - questions that Harry had no hope of answering. Lauren lowered her head, not really wanting to witness Snape belittling the boy in front of everyone. It was one thing to hold a grudge; it was another to be maliciously cruel. She respected Snape, but his methods left much to be desired. Muffled sniggers let her know that her fellow Slytherins were thoroughly enjoying themselves, though.

He then divided the class into pairs and with a wave of his hand, writing appeared on the blackboard behind him. The spidery handwriting was unmistakably his and were instructions on brewing a simple potion to cure boils. Lauren stared at some of the ingredients written there, wondering how she was going to distinguish them? She was no goddess in the kitchen, and she knew for certain that her lack of ‘culinary skills’ was going to extend to the Potions classroom as well. She sincerely hoped that the ingredients they had to collect from the storage room were clearly labelled, otherwise she was going to be utterly lost.

Lauren and Tracey worked together, Tracey weighing the nettles and Lauren crushing the snake fangs in a mortar.

Potions, as it turned out, was very different from the other school subjects she had attended thus far. Charms and Transfiguration was more about focus and intent, and then channeling that intent using the right word and flicking the wand a certain way. Granted, she was still struggling to perform simple spells, but she was only on day two of school. There was still time for improvement.

But with Potions there was no logic or reason to it. It was a simple procedure of brewing ingredients together in a cauldron. Lauren could not understand how this could possibly result in a magical brew that could heal almost anything. Surely any Muggle could throw together the exact same herbs and animal innards and produce the same result. But that, she knew, was not the case, otherwise all Muggles would be inadvertently brewing potions. So how was it that only witches and wizards could produce magical potions and not Muggles? Lauren could not fathom it.

“What’s next?” Lauren asked Tracey.

“We have to stew the horned slugs,” Tracey answered back.

Lauren picked up the bottle containing the horned slugs and pulled a face of disgust at the realization that she was going to have to handle these things. With her bare hands.

“Do not tell me that you are squeamish, Miss Ward?” Snape asked, having suddenly materialized in front of her. He was regarding her with a cold, calculating look that had Lauren instantly tensing up. A sneer slowly formed on his lips as he silently challenged her to admit that she was, indeed, ‘squeamish’.

Lauren glared back at him. “Of course not, Sir. I have dealt with more unpleasant…things before.” In a sly, underhanded way, she was referring to his less than appealing attitude.

His eyes narrowed at her meaning and he abruptly turned on his heel, causing his robes to billow around him. His voice, when he addressed the class, was commanding and authoritative. “Get used to dealing with gruesome and unpleasant ingredients whilst making potions. These ingredients are invaluable and, when added altogether, make important and sometimes life-saving potions. There is no time for prudishness or squeamishness when you need to brew a potion to replenish blood, ease chronic pain or to stop your insides boiling away to nothing. When you are undergoing any of those inflictions, believe me, you will not hesitate to down a potion that contains snake fangs or, in this case, stewed slugs.”

He turned to face her once more, his pale features set into a dark mask as he regarded her. Slowly he arched a brow.

Lauren gave a jerky nod of understanding, but kept her lips firmly pressed together. There was no way she was going to argue back when he was in this mood.

Snape regarded her for a moment, and she knew she was in trouble when a cold gleam entered his dark and fathomless eyes.

“Miss Davis, I want you to make your potion separately from Miss Ward.”

Lauren gaped at him; sure she hadn’t heard correctly. _He wants me to brew a potion on my own?! What game is he playing at?_

Tracey instantly did as she was bid, scrambling to gather more ingredients and set up her cauldron next to Lauren’s. Lauren shot her an imploring look, but Tracey gave her a helpless shake of her head.

“Best do what he says, Lauren. Professor Snape can turn quite nasty when provoked, from what I’ve heard,” she whispered from the corner of her mouth.

Lauren turned back helplessly to her cauldron and scattered ingredients, wondering how she was going to manage. But then the stubborn side of her came to the forefront, especially when she glanced back at Snape, who was watching her with a certain smugness that made her want to smack the look from his face.

_I’ll show him! I’m thirty years old. I can do this. Honestly, how hard can it be to brew a potion?_

Thirty minutes later had Lauren in a frazzled mess and close to admitting defeat. The fumes from the potion was playing havoc with her hair, making it frizz and stick to her sweaty face. She peered into her cauldron to check on her stewed horned slugs and recoiled when she got a nasty whiff of it, trying valiantly not to gag at the putrid smell.

_Crap crap crappity crap! That’s nasty. Is it supposed to smell like that? And is it supposed to resemble sewage?_

A billow of black entered her line of sight and she looked up slowly in defeat at the formidable Potion Master standing before her. He levelled her with a haughty look before flicking his gaze down to the contents in her cauldron. He slowly lifted his dark eyes to hers, arching that brow that let her know instantly that the next words out of his mouth were going to be derisive; cutting and sharp in their rebuke.

“Tell me, Miss Ward, what this is supposed to be?”

Well aware that all eyes were now on her, Lauren steeled herself. “It’s supposed to be a potion to cure boils.”

Severus plucked up a ladle and scooped a spoonful of the grey, slimy sludge, tilting the spoon slightly so that the liquid trickled back thickly into the cauldron.

“And does this look like a potion that will cure boils, Miss Ward.”

Her temper flared. “No idea, Sir. I’ve never brewed a potion before. You’re the expert – you tell me.”

She instantly knew that she had gone too far. Again.

_Do you have a death wish, Lauren?! _

His nostrils flared and his eyes glinted dangerously as he glared down at her. He opened her mouth to give her what she knew was going to be the tongue-lashing of the century, but before he could utter a word, there was a loud hissing before billowing acid green smoke filled the room.

Snape whirled around in time to see Neville’s cauldron melt into a black unidentifiable blob, the liquid within spilling across the floor. Poor Neville stood rooted to the spot, drenched in the failed potion. He yelped in pain as angry red boils started erupting all over his exposed flesh.

Lauren glanced over at Tracey. Coming to the same conclusion, both hastily clambered onto their stools to avoid the liquid which was flowing dangerously close to their vicinity. In fact, the whole class had decided to do the exact same thing.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled; his features contorted in fury. With a wave of his hand, the mess was cleared instantly, and Lauren breathed out a sigh of relief that she had avoided coming into contact with it. Snape continued, his voice as vicious as ever. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

All Neville could do was whimper, both from pain and the rebuke. Lauren watched in morbid fascination as the boils on his nose popped, oozing yellow puss all over his face.

“Take him to the hospital wing!” Snape snapped at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry, berating him for not stopping Neville from making such a stupid blunder. Lauren didn’t know what to make of his reaction. She knew that Snape had vowed to protect the Boy Who Lived but had to maintain his cover and not show the slightest bit weakness when it came to Harry. But as she watched him snarl nastily at Potter, she found it hard to believe that he did not outright hate the boy.

_Either he really does hate Harry, or he’s a really good actor._

She was leaning more and more to the former than the latter.

“Get back to your potions!” Snape commanded as he strode to his desk. Lauren suspected that if there were a bottle of fire whiskey hidden in his desk, he would have downed it in that instant. He looked dangerously close to exploding.

And although she felt sorry for Neville, she was immensely grateful that his accident had diverted Snape’s ire away from her.

“You were right, Lauren,” Pansy whispered from behind her. “Professor Snape definitely gave us a show.” There was unconcealed glee tinting her voice, followed my muffled giggles from the other girls.

“Miss Ward?”

Lauren’s head snapped up as Snape addressed her. She noted with dread that his fury was still bubbling just below the surface, threatening to erupt at the slightest provocation.

“Yes, Sir?” she enquired, willing her voice not to waver under his blazing glare.

“Detention at eight o’clock tonight,” he enunciated, drawing out the sentence slowly and agonizingly, his voice strained as though he were restraining himself from shouting.

She wanted to argue, but a swift nudge from Tracey stopped her in her tracks.

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.

“And don’t be late,” he cautioned, his tone menacing.

Lauren felt as though she had been sentenced to the gallows. Detention with Snape would not be pleasant on the best of days, and with his current ire at her of late, she knew with certainty that he was going to make her suffer tonight. She glanced over at Tracey, who gave her a sympathetic look that did nothing to ease her trepidation.

_Could this get any worse? _she thought morosely just as her potion belched dangerously inside the cauldron, making Lauren jump back hastily with Neville’s incident still fresh in her mind. She glanced up at Snape, who was watching her. With a lazy wave of his hand, the contents within her cauldron disappeared and he stared back at her with a sadistic sneer planted on his face.

_Oh yes, it can definitely get worse. I have still yet to survive detention…I wonder if I have time to fake my death?_

By the way Snape was looking at her, she knew faking her death was not going to be needed – Snape was going to end up killing her by the time detention was over.

~oOo~

The rest of her lessons went by fairly well, much to Lauren’s relief. But eight o’clock arrived way too soon for her liking. She now stood outside the door leading to the Potions classroom and tentatively knocked on the door.

“Come in, Miss Ward,” Snape’s dark, silky voice called from within.

Lauren entered the gloomy classroom, her heart pounding painfully in her chest with each step, knowing that Snape was not going to let her off lightly for disrespecting him in front of not only the Gryffindors, but the entire class.

She paused when she noticed a cauldron waiting for her at her desk. She glanced up at Snape, who was seated behind his desk, his hands clasped in front of him as he coolly assessed her.

“Professor?” she enquired, unable to hide her confusion. She had expected some sort of gruesome punishment. Not this.

“You pointed out a valid point today, Miss Ward,” he started, his tone and body language completely relaxed. It unnerved her, to say the least.

“I did?” She couldn’t hide the skepticism from her voice.

He gave a single nod, his raven black hair barely stirring at the movement. “You have never brewed a potion before and given your background, as well as todays results, it is safe to say that you are going to need help.”

She cautiously approached her desk, a frown furrowing her brows. “You want to help me? Why?”

“Do not mistake my motivations as saintly, Miss Ward. It’s purely for selfish reasons. We cannot have our newest Slytherin celebrity being dismal at Potions. I would take it personally if you happened to fail my classes. And given that Potter’s potion was marginally better than your own…let’s just say that it has motivated me to assist you and ensure that you succeed.”

Lauren stared at him, unable to hide her disbelief.

“Now I want you to attempt to brew your potion again.”

Lauren still did not understand why he was trying to help her. He had given her his reasons, but she suspected there was more to it than that. Getting him to reveal those true reasons, though, would be nigh impossible.

She gathered the ingredients written on the blackboard and carefully weighed the nettles before crushing the required snake fangs. After a while Snape, like a silent shadow of the night, came to stand on the other side of her desk, watching her every move with calculating assessment.

“I’m sorry for disrespecting you like that,” she mumbled as she worked.

There was a moment’s silence and she wondered if he was going to even acknowledge her apology. Then he spoke up.

“Why do you think I intentionally antagonized you, Miss Ward?”

Lauren paused in her task, her brows furrowing as she realized what he was actually saying.

“You mean you wanted me to snap at you so that you could give me detention…so you could help me?” It sounded ridiculous to her ears, but as she glanced up at Severus, there was no mistaking the smug smirk playing on his thin lips.

“Indeed,” he drawled.

She hesitantly turned back to her work, her mind buzzing with this revelation. There seemed to be many layers shrouding Professor Snape, and she realized that he was like a chess player. He carefully deliberated before acting and was always one step ahead of everyone else. But he was sneaky about it, so no one was the wiser as to what he was truly up to. He was the penultimate Slytherin.

Shaking her head, she muttered, “There are better ways to help me than using detention as a ruse to do so.”

“You openly disrespected me. There was no other choice but to give you detention,” he pointed out.

“I only snapped at you because you provoked me!”

“That I did,” he said with a shadow of a smirk.

_Why that cunning, conniving bastard…_

“Slytherin,” she finally muttered.

“Impudent girl,” he remarked lazily, no heat or derision to his words and Lauren instantly relaxed as she worked.

After a moment, she spoke up. “Do you know whether Dumbledore has found out anything?”

“None that he has revealed to me.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“So eager to depart from our presence, Miss Ward?”

“Wouldn’t you if you were in my place?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Lauren glanced up at him, trying to gauge his expression, which was frustratingly unreadable. Snape simple stared back at her. Then he spoke, his words carefully thought out.

“A second chance, Miss Ward, as I told you before. Think about it. Now get back to brewing.”

Once all the ingredients were prepared and it was time to start brewing, Snape stepped around the desk and came to stand behind her, his voluminous robes brushing up against her smaller frame.

“If one were to give a Muggle the same ingredients and exact same instructions for brewing this potion, would the results be the same?”

“I actually thought about that earlier on,” she replied. “I would have to say no, otherwise all Muggles would be inadvertently brewing potions.”

“And tell me, Miss Ward, what makes the difference?”

Lauren pondered his question before replying slowly. “I would have to say magic.”

“Correct.”

“But I don’t understand. How can it be magic when we’re not actually using magic to brew potions?”

“Think about it, Miss Ward,” he coaxed, his expression softening. In this moment Lauren glimpsed the teacher in him and the satisfaction he was garnering from imparting valuable knowledge to a student who was willing to learn and excel. “A wand is a conduit for a witch’s or wizard’s magic, especially for younger students who need a solid means through which to channel their magic. You may have noticed that older and more experienced witches and wizards can opt not to use their wands and instead use their hands to cast spells. The truth is the magic is within us.”

Lauren drank in every word he uttered, utterly spellbound at his explanation.

“So, when brewing a potion, we what? Channel our magic into the potion to make it have…magical properties?”

“Correct.”

“How?” Lauren asked stumped. As far as she knew, there was no Guidebook for Dummies on how to use and channel magic, especially when it came to brewing potions.

“That, Miss Ward, is what I intend to show you,” he stated with authority, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

Lauren felt a rush of excitement at his proclamation and went about heating the water in her cauldron, following each step in the brewing process carefully.

“Now you need to stir the potion until it turns quicksilver grey, Miss Ward. Pick up your stirring rod and begin.”

Lauren did as she was instructed, making sure to keep her stirs even. Suddenly a long-fingered hand curled around hers as she stirred, startling her.

“I’m going to channel my magic through your hand so that you can experience what it feels like,” he explained blandly.

Lauren nodded and continued stirring, Snape’s hand still upon hers. And then she felt it. It was like warm sunlight coursing through her hand, warming the skin. But it was more than that. It was tingly and electrifying, and yet not. Lauren could not explain it, but she knew one thing for sure: Snape’s magic was not dark at all, like she had expected. It was almost welcoming, as though his magic was calling to hers, coaxing it to the surface with gentleness that she had not known Snape possessed.

She gasped aloud at the sensation and glanced over at him. Snape was staring at the potion intently, his focus so intense and singular.

“Concentrate on the potion, Miss Ward,” he murmured.

Lauren hastily glanced back at the cauldron, gasping when the color started slowly changing color. Once it was quicksilver grey, Snape removed his hand. Lauren almost whimpered at the feel of his magic retreating.

“Remove it from the flame and add the porcupine quills, stirring three times counterclockwise,” he instructed brusquely, reverting once more to his prickly persona.

Lauren did as she was asked and watched fascinatedly when the potion rippled and then changed to charcoal grey, a clear indication that it was complete.

But before she could celebrate, the contents were vanished.

“Now I want you to try on your own,” he stated, gliding back to his desk. Once seated, he pulled over some papers for grading, his red ink and quill at the ready to slash through the essays.

Lauren felt confused at his sudden change in attitude but started the whole process again. When it came time to stir, she concentrated as fiercely as she could, willing her magic to the surface. So intense was her concentration that the explosion completely caught her off guard and she found herself flat on her back on the cold stone floor, covered in liquid.

She dazedly sat up and two dragon-hide boots appeared in her wide-eyed vision. Lauren slowly lifted her gaze to see Professor Snape looking down at her with contempt.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked, struggling to her feet. She was immensely grateful when Snape cast a silent cleansing spell over her and cleared the mess away at her station.

“You were supposed to channel your magic. Instead, you forced it out like bringing a hammer down on a nail,” he chastised, rolling his eyes for good measure. “You need to call to your magic, coaxing it gently to the surface. Let it flow through you and become one with you before sending it into your potion. Potion brewing is an art form and needs to be treated as such. Now try again.”

It was well past midnight by the time she made it back to the Slytherin dorm room, her body weighed down with fatigue. She felt utterly exhausted and drained, and she wondered if that had something to do with consciously calling her magic to the surface, or whether it was because Snape was just a demanding and exhaustive teacher?

She had succeeded in making three more spectacular explosions, Snape berating her each time. He had not held back in pointing out what she had done incorrectly, and Lauren had endeavored not to repeat those mistakes. It hadn’t helped, though - she still had not succeeded in correctly brewing the potion by the end of her ‘detention’.

She briefly wondered if she would ever get the hang of it and suspected that there were going to be many more detentions in her future, especially if Severus Snape was determined to see her succeed.

And she still had no further insight as to why he was really helping her. All she knew was that there were many layers to the Potion Master; layers she had no chance of unveiling. He kept his secrets and motivations well-guarded, and she really had no clue as to what his motives were when it came to her. She highly doubted she would ever find out.

Lauren fell onto her bed fully clothed and fell into a deep sleep, unable to ponder any more on the mystery that was Severus Snape.


	8. Chapter 8

“Is she dead?”

“I don’t know. She certainly looks dead…”

“I wonder if detention with Professor Snape is as brutal as everyone says it is?”

“Considering the state Lauren’s in right now, I would say that the rumors are true…”

Lauren groaned at the incessant chatter that surrounded her, disturbing her sleep - which she coveted more fiercely than wine.

“Oh good. She’s not dead.” That sounded distinctly like Pansy Parkinson.

Lauren groggily blinked open her eyes only to see four faces peering down at her: Tracey looking concerned and the other three staring at her with morbid fascination. She groaned again and rubbed tiredly at her face, wishing she could hex them into oblivion and go back to sleep.

_Children!_

“Will you lot shut up so that I can get some sleep!” she snapped peevishly, rolling over and reaching out blindly for the covers.

“Lauren,” Tracey started, her voice taking on that slightly nervous quality whenever she tried to deal with her friend’s volatile mood that followed when she first awoke. “It’s almost noon…”

Lauren froze in her attempt to find the blankets to cover herself, Tracey’s words somehow sinking into her sleep deprived brain.

_Noon? I’ve been asleep almost twelve hours…? No, there must be some mistake…_

Lauren rolled over and squinted at the clock resting on her bedside table. Her eyes widened when she realized that Tracey was, indeed, correct.

_Well, fuck me…_

“What did Professor Snape make you do for detention?” Daphne asked, flicking her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder as she stared at Lauren with wide baby blue eyes.

Lauren sat up, still staring disbelievingly at the clock.

_Half the day wasted. And I still need to finish my homework, including writing all the properties of moonstones for Snape. What the hell is a moonstone anyway?!..._

Tracey gave a discreet cough, snapping Lauren out of her spiraling thoughts. She glanced over at Daphne, who was still waiting for a reply.

“Oh, um. He had me brewing that blasted potion over and over again.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Tracey stated reasonably. The other girls looked slightly put off. Lauren supposed they had been expecting some horror story of some sort.

Lauren gave a dry chuckle, though it was without humor. “It was when I made it explode each time. I don’t think Professor Snape was very happy with me by the end of it.”

“He hasn’t given you detention again, has he?” Pansy asked, almost as though the very idea terrified her.

Lauren shook her head. “No. Though he did order me out of his classroom by the end of it and told me if I wasn’t out of his sight within ten seconds, he was going to hex me with boils that would make Neville’s seem like butterfly kisses.”

That part had been true. Very true.

Millicent chuckled, unable to hide her childish glee at Lauren’s misfortune. “That’s bad. Professor Snape is usually quite lenient with us Slytherins. You must have really made him angry.”

_That’s an understatement…especially when the last potion exploded quite spectacularly and doused not only the papers he had been grading, but Professor Snape as well. _

The dark look shadowing his features, as well as the threat that had followed, had sent Lauren scampering away as fast as she could. Snape, she was fast learning, was not a man to mess with, especially when angered.

“Yeah, I think it’s best I avoid him for the next few days,” Lauren said.

“Days? Try weeks, Lauren,” Daphne piped up.

Millicent and Pansy sniggered at the very thought.

Lauren grabbed a pillow and tossed it in their general direction, but this only caused their sniggers to morph into peals of laughter.

Lauren glowered at them and extended her arm stiffly, pointing to the door. “Out!”

Pansy smirked at Lauren, though there was nothing sinister about it. She motioned for the others to follow her and as they exited the room, Lauren overheard Pansy mutter, “I think Lauren is going to become like Professor Snape.”

“She sure imitates him well enough,” Daphne replied.

Their voices faded and Lauren couldn’t hear the rest of the gossip about her.

Her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud gurgling growl.

“It’s almost time for lunch,” Tracey stated, glancing down at her wristwatch.

Food won over sleep and Lauren heaved herself out of bed and dressed in pale blue jeans, a powder blue shirt and white trainers. Lastly, she threw on a fluffy grey sweater and was ready to go.

She was immensely thankful that Blinky had procured the clothes for her, but Lauren wondered how she was possibly going to afford a new wardrobe each time her body went through a growth spurt. She had no income to speak of now and she highly doubted funds from Ministry of Magic would cover much in the way of living expenses.

Lauren sighed. She would worry about that later. For now, her more pressing need was to find food and tea. Lots of it. She was utterly famished.

Maybe consciously calling her magic to the surface had drained her in ways she couldn’t have foreseen, though she wondered why it didn’t affect the other kids as it did her. Did it have something to do with children being more open-minded and adaptable? Even though she had a body of a child, her mind was still very much an adult. And with an adult mind came the benefit of being more focused during class and while working on her homework. But now, it seemed, this attribute was working against her, especially with things that came naturally to magical children, such as channeling their magic without a conscious thought.

She would have to bring up this theory with Snape when next she spoke to him.

Lauren shuddered at the thought as they headed down to the Great Hall. As far as she was concerned, she was determined to avoid him for the foreseeable future – just until his anger towards her had simmered down exponentially. Knowing Snape, that could be months, maybe even years.

~oOo~

Almost a week passed and soon they had their very first flying lesson, which was to be with the Gryffindors.

Lauren trudged towards the training field with her fellow Slytherins, knowing full well what was to transpire in this particular lesson. But that was not the reason for her reluctance.

Lauren wasn’t a particularly nervous flyer, nor was she afraid of heights. No, it was the fact that she was going to have to fly a broom that had her on edge. Those things really didn’t look that safe at all.

_There’s no seatbelt! And no helmet. I’m going to crack my skull open for sure,_ she thought with growing unease, briefly pondering how many injuries had been sustained in this particular class. Maybe it was best not to dwell on it.

Madam Hooch was a fascinating witch, to say the least. She sported short grey hair that was wiry and sticking up in a spectacular spiky hairdo, and her yellow eyes gazed at them all sternly as she watched them approach, reminding Lauren very much of a cat. Even when she spoke, her voice was gravelly, sounding almost like a husky purr.

Once everyone had arrived, she had each house line up, facing each other, and instructed them to extend their right hand over their brooms, which were lying innocently on the ground by their feet.

“Now I want you all to say ‘Up!’,” she instructed in a no-nonsense tone as she bustled about with pent-up energy. “Once you have your broom in your hand, mount it and get a feel for it.”

Lauren regarded her broom thoughtfully as a chorus of ‘up’s’ sounded around her.

“Up!” she commanded.

The broom twitched, but otherwise remained stubbornly still.

Lauren narrowed her eyes and snarled, “Up!”

Still nothing. Well aware that almost all the other students were now mounting their brooms, Lauren drew in a deep breath and channeled every bit of magic she could to the surface. “UP!”

Suddenly the broom shot up, the handle smacking her square on the nose with a sickening _scrunch_.

Lauren stumbled back, her eyes watering, and clutched at her nose as intense pain cleaved through her face.

“Lauren! Are you okay?” she heard Tracey ask beside her, her voice high pitched with concern.

“Goddam son of a Willy Wonka!” she cursed loudly, her ridiculous swear word, thankfully, muffled by her cupped hands.

“Here, let me have a look,” Madam Hooch commanded, her hands gently prying Lauren’s own away from her face. She took one look and _tsked_ aloud. “A broken nose by the looks of it. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can’t fix -.”

She was about to say something more when there was a commotion behind her, distracting her as well as the rest of the class. Neville’s broom, with Neville still on it and clinging on for dear life, shot up straight through the air. Lauren watched in horror as it rose higher and higher until Neville’s grip slipped and he plummeted to the ground, landing with a sickening thud.

Madam Hooch rushed over to his crumpled form, and Lauren heard a rush as the Gryffindors sighed in relief when a whimper was heard from him. The Slytherins, though, stood to side, watching with baleful glee.

Lauren was starting to notice this shift in the Slytherins. When in the seclusion of their Common Room they were quite pleasant to be around, acting like regular kids. But once they stepped out of the dungeons a change overcame them and they became determined to live up to their ruthless reputation.

Hooch helped Neville to his feet and barked out to the rest of the class not to mount their brooms under any circumstance, otherwise they would find themselves expelled. She caught Lauren’s eye and motioned with her head for the Slytherin to follow her; a silent order that Lauren dared not disobey. Hooch, while likeable, was not a teacher you crossed.

Once in the Hospital Wing, Lauren was directed to an empty bed while Madam Pomfrey fussed over Neville. His injury was, apparently, significantly more dire than her own, and the Healer was choosing to prioritize whom she treated first.

Lauren yanked the curtains closed and lay upon the bed, her already pummeled spirits plummeting even more as she waited. She was struggling and she didn’t know what to do.

_This is ridiculous! I’m not a witch. I can’t even do magic properly. My broken nose is proof of that._

The minutes ticked by.

_What am I doing here in a place I clearly don’t belong? _she thought morosely.

So deeply immersed was she in her turmoil that she dd not hear the tread of booted feet entering the Hospital Wing.

It was Snape’s deep and sarcastic voice sounding out that snapped her out of her musings. “I heard one of my Slytherins has had the misfortune of ending up here.”

“Yes, she’s in that bed over there,” Madam Pomfrey stated distractedly.

Lauren held her breath as the footsteps made their way to her bed, and suddenly the curtains were yanked back sharply to reveal the dark Potion Master himself.

“Why am I not surprised?” he drawled as his gaze settled on her.

Lauren glared at him, well aware that, right now, she must be a sight with her bruised, bloodied and swollen nose.

“Not. A. Word,” she growled, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. The last thing her morale wanted, or needed, was Snape openly laughing at her.

Snape pressed his lips together, though she could see the corners twitching. Finally he gave up the fight and openly smirked at her.

“I swear I’m going to hex you as soon as I learn how,” she muttered. Then, in a softer and more depressed voice, she finished, “If I ever learn how…”

Snape regarded her for a moment and, coming to a decision, shut the curtains and came to sit in the chair beside her bed. He crossed his legs at the knee and observed her shrewdly.

“What happened?” he asked in all seriousness.

Lauren scowled and averted her gaze from his own penetrating one. It was embarrassing enough that the accident had happened at all, not only in front of the Gryffindors, but her fellow Slytherins as well. Now she was going to be forced to recount it all back to Snape, who would surely find it amusing.

“I tried to get that blasted broom to rise and eventually resorted to channeling my magic to make it obey me.”

“I see,” he remarked, folding his hands in his lap. Lauren was somewhat taken aback that he hadn’t made a snide comment yet. “Did it work?”

Lauren pointed to her nose. “What do you think?”

The corners of his lips twitched again but, to his credit, he did not laugh.

Lauren huffed, but the fight had long since left her. She turned her head away and mumbled, “I hope Dumbledore comes back soon with some news. The sooner I leave this world the better. I don’t belong here.”

“You’ve barely been here a week, Miss Ward.”

“Exactly! Hermione Granger can already levitate a feather and transfigure her matchstick into a needle. All I’ve succeeded in doing is exploding my potions and smacking myself in the face with a bumbling broomstick!”

The seconds ticked by as Snape stared back at her with a certain degree of disdain washing over his features.

“Am I correct in assuming that you are choosing to give up?” he finally asked.

Lauren stared up at the ceiling, tears pricking her eyes as she refused to meet his gaze. “It’s a lost cause. Like I said before, I don’t belong here.”

Silence descended between them like an iron curtain.

When Snape finally spoke, his tone was distant and aloof. “Miss Granger, though considered brilliant by her counterparts and teachers alike, is only able to regurgitate back answers without truly thinking for herself. She may have the knowledge and skill to enact spells and brew potions to required standards, but her refusal to think outside the box, per say, inhibits her from truly being unique and brilliant.” Lauren slowly turned her head to look at Snape as his speech captivated her, as it always did. He commanded respect and his voice was his tool, which he used mercilessly. As he was doing right now. “She will never know how to create something new or unique, whether it be a new spell or charm, or brew a potion borne of her own imagination. Her inability to think for herself limits her and, by extension, limits her brilliance.”

Snape paused, gauging whether Lauren was listening and absorbing his words. “If you choose to measure yourself against her then I agree with you - you might as well leave now. You will just end up becoming like the rest of the mindless dunderheads inhabiting this castle. And I have neither the patience nor the inclination to waste my time further with you.” He rose abruptly to his feet.

“If that was supposed to be a pep talk then let me be the first to tell you that you completely suck at it!” Lauren snapped, the fight returning to her full force.

“I am not here to coddle you, Miss Ward, but I will gladly help you realize your potential if you would but stop your morose sulking and rise to the challenge.”

Lauren sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She opened her mouth to retort, but Snape held his hand up sharply, halting her in her tracks. Lauren glared at him but shut her mouth.

Snape breathed in deeply through his nose and visually composed himself. “When I showed you how to channel your magic, what did you feel?”

Lauren felt derailed by this sudden turn in conversation. _Where was Snape heading with this?_ As always, she felt like she was walking into a trap of his own design when she had dealings with him.

“I felt your magic,” she finally answered.

“And what did it feel like?”

“Powerful,” she answered instantly.

Snape gave a nod of approval.

“And…welcoming,” she continued, a slight frown marring her brows at the memory. Snape stilled at her words, his eyes widening ever so slightly, though Lauren did not notice as she concentrated. “It was like your magic called to my own.”

Snape blinked and then after a prolonged pause, he cleared his throat, causing Lauren to glance up at him. “Do you want to know what I felt when I called your magic to the surface?”

Lauren eyed him with suspicion. “Okay. I’ll bite. What did my magic feel like?”

“Powerful and untempered,” he replied honestly, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “Raw magic that, when harnessed correctly, has the exponential potential to become powerful in its own right.”

Lauren frowned at his words. “Then why don’t I feel it?” she asked in frustration.

“It takes time and practice, Miss Ward. Harnessing your magic doesn’t just happen overnight -.”

Suddenly the curtains were yanked open and in swooped Madam Pomfrey, all brusque and business-like in her nurse’s uniform.

“Harassing my patients again, Severus?” she asked sternly, though her tone had an undercurrent of fondness to it.

Snape had reverted back to Dark Professor mode once more and gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps,” he said, bestowing a rare smile at the Healer. Lauren was surprised to realized that these two were probably good friends. Or as good as friends as any could be when it came to Snape.

Madam Pomfrey scoffed, but Lauren noted there was very little derision to this act. Instead, she pushed past Snape and came to stand in front of Lauren, her eyes narrowing as she studied her bloodied and broken nose. Then she whipped out her wand and muttered something that Lauren couldn’t quite make out.

Suddenly the cartilage righted itself with a painful snap and Lauren groaned aloud, too stunned to do much else.

“There. Good as new,” the Healer stated before departing as fast as she had arrived without another word.

“Merlin’s saggy balls! That hurt,” Lauren groaned, tentatively touching her newly repaired nose. She gave it a little wiggle, relieved that the pain was now gone.

“Indeed,” Snape intoned dryly, unamused by her choice of words.

She wanted to scoff. She had heard the other students say much, much worse. In fact, it was from one of those students that she learned that particular phrase.

“I shall escort you back to your dormitory to ensure you don’t run into any more trouble.”

With dawning clarity, Lauren realized that Snape, in his sly underhanded way, was making sure that she made it back safely to her room, especially with the threat of Quirrell looming over her.

The walk back to the Slytherin Common Room was a silent one, with Lauren not quite knowing what to say to him. Snape, as usual, was being his aloof and stony self, preferring silence over incessant chatter.

Before they reached the doors leading to the Slytherin Common Room, he placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her from entering.

“We need to resume our earlier discussion sometime soon,” he said, withdrawing his hand.

Lauren inwardly groaned at the prospect. She and Snape gelled about as well as oil and water, and always seemed to clash whenever they were in each other’s presence. Yet, somehow, she knew she could trust him. “I suppose another detention is in my future.”

The corners of his lips curled sardonically, hinting that she was, indeed, correct. “You, Miss Ward, might just make it as a Seer.”

She gave him a smirk to rival his own. “Who knows…I might even replace Professor Trelawney.”

If the look that crossed his face was anything to go by, Snape did not relish the idea. “Do let me know when that happy occasion is to occur so that I may at least compose my resignation letter…or epitaph, post haste.”

_Wait…did Snape just make a joke?! _Lauren was stunned into silence.

Snape gave her a curt nod. “We shall talk later, Miss Ward.” And with that he departed in a billow of black, his words ringing ominously in her ears.

~oOo~

A week passed by in a flurry of classes and homework, Lauren’s twelfth birthday came and went without any acknowledgement or fuss, which suited Lauren just fine. She did not need any reminders that she was, once again, twelve.

Severus Snape did not once try to provoke her as a ruse to get her into detention – something Lauren was very much grateful for. But neither did he try to encourage her to seek him out on her own, instead choosing to maintain a respectably aloof distance. It seemed that he was going to wait for her to make up her mind and come to him when she was ready.

Truthfully, she had been thinking quite a bit about Snape’s little pep talk. He was willing to help her; he had declared as much. But by accepting his help and embracing her magical side, she was essentially giving up the hope of ever returning to her old life back in her own world. A large part of her rebelled at the idea of remaining here. She didn’t belong here.

Friday night, as she lay in bed, she mulled over what the Sorting Hat had said to her on her first night here. She was supposed to help the Potion Master, but right now it was quite evident that Snape was the one helping her. Definitely not the other way around.

Her thoughts drifted to Snape’s inevitable death and hot tears pricked her eyes. Even though he was an utter and callous arse, she knew without a doubt that he was the bravest man she had ever met and didn’t deserve the fate that was to befall him. To try and protect the child of both his childhood friend and nemesis whilst maintaining his cover as spy for the side of Light was not going to be an easy task for him.

It all felt unjust to Lauren. Snape would be treading the line perilous between the side of good and evil as he worked both sides, his life dangling precariously in the process as he sought to see his vow through to the very bitter end. All that would be asked of him was almost too much for one man to bear.

Lauren sat up and clutched her head between her hands. _The Hat is wrong. There’s no way I can possibly help him. I have no skills or talent to speak of and, in a few years, shit’s going to get very real when the war breaks out. How the hell am I supposed to help him?_

_By choosing to stay, _a sneaky voice sounded in her head. _Stay and learn everything Snape is willing to teach you. This will give you the tools to help him in the end. Save the life of a condemned man…_

Lauren shook her head. Severus did not want to be saved. He was going to welcome death willingly when the time came.

_Unless you can change his mind…_

Lauren wanted to smack some sense into that sneaky little voice in her head. She sighed and flung back the covers, knowing sleep would not come to her this night.

Clambering out of bed, she shrugged on her bathrobe and slipped on her matching white slippers. Glancing around she was relieved to find that the other girls were sound asleep, their soft snores punctuating the still night air.

Shooting a quick look at the clock on her bedside table, she saw that it was a little after one in the morning. Lauren chewed her bottom lip indecisively, wondering if she should go.

Coming to a decision, Lauren exited the room as quietly as she could and padded to the Common Room, which was eerily deserted and devoid of any activity. The fire that usually crackled warmly in the hearth had died down to glowing embers.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lauren swept from the room and paused as she stepped into the dimly lit hallway of the dungeons.

Steeling her nerves that were threatening to fail her, Lauren made her way to the Potion’s classroom. Reaching the rough wood door, Lauren drew in a deep breath and pushed open the door, somewhat surprised to find that it hadn’t been locked. She paused on the threshold, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom, and then made her way to the other side of the classroom to the door that she knew led to Snape’s office.

She raised her hand and gave a firm knock on the wood, the sound echoing painfully loud all around her.

“What are you doing out of bed at this hour?” a sharp voice asked from behind her.

Lauren whirled around, coming face to face with none other than Snape. She hadn’t even heard him sneak up behind her.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted, clutching at her frantically racing heart.

“I was doing my rounds, looking for wayward students such as yourself,” he drawled, his face half cast in shadows. “Now, you haven’t answered my question.”

“I was looking for…” Lauren paused, wondering if it was too late to back out now. “I was looking for you. I wanted to finish our conversation.”

Snape remained eerily still and silent as he regarded her. Then he reached out, his arm brushing past her, and pushed open the door, letting the warm golden light from within spill over the threshold.

“Get in,” he ordered.

Lauren stepped into his study, pausing as she let her gaze wander around the interior. A fire was crackling invitingly in the hearth, greatly diminishing the chill that permanently permeated the dungeon walls. A large polished ornate desk was situated on the one side of the room with neat stacks of papers piled on the one end, quill and red ink ready for critical marking. The walls on either side had been converted into bookshelves, each crammed with leather bound tomes. Lauren was curious as to what some of the subject matters were and wondered what types of books held Severus’ attention.

_Probably 101 ways to a complete and utter arse and make students miserable, _Lauren thought.

Lauren spied another door situated in the wall behind the desk and suspected that this was the Potion Master’s private rooms. The insanely curious side of her wanted nothing more than to peek inside that room, if only to glimpse the personal side of this dark and mysterious man, but the logical side of her knew that Snape would throttle her if she even dared attempt to invade his privacy.

“Sit down,” he instructed as he closed the door securely behind them and brushed past her to sit in the plush green leather chair behind his desk.

Lauren settled into one of the two chairs facing his desk. Once she was seated, Snape waved his hand and a glass of firewhisky appeared on his desk. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the tantalizing liquid, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Aren’t you going to offer me a glass?”

“No.”

“I’m an adult, remember,” she pointed out. “Legally entitled to drink.”

“But your body is that of a child.”

“So?”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, as though he were already regretting letting her in. “So, Miss Ward, it would be exceptionally irresponsible, not to mention immoral, if I not only got a child drunk, but a student on top of that.”

“I didn’t think your moral compass was that high.”

Snape levelled her with a baleful glare. “That’s your problem – you do not think,” he finally muttered darkly.

“On occasion I have been known to.”

“I’m surprised,” Snape muttered dryly before downing his drink in one gulp.

Lauren ignored him. “And I’ve been thinking long and hard about our last conversation.”

Snape eyed her with scrutiny and then placed his tumbler down on the table with a dull _thud. _He sat back and steepled his long fingers in front of him, his index fingers pressed against his lips as he contemplated her. Coming to a decision, he straightened up and clasped his hands in front of him on his desk.

“The root of your problem is that you are struggling to harness your magic and realize your true potential.”

“Obviously,” she stated sarcastically.

“Interrupt me again and I shall go against my moral code and hex you,” he warned.

Lauren huffed, not being able to recall if Severus had ever actually hexed a student, and made a zipping motion against her lips. Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously at her antics.

“As I said before,” he continued, “it takes time and patience to learn such techniques. Children are more adaptable, and subconsciously call on their magic without even realizing it. You retain your adult mind, which is not as adaptable as that of a child’s, and you are therefore struggling to not only integrate into your life here, but also to channel and harness your magic.”

_Ah, good. He’s been giving my little dilemma some thought. I do hope he has an answer._

Lauren gave a nod of understanding.

Snape regarded her for a few beats and when he finally spoke, his tone was even, as though he were steeling himself. “I think, in your case, acceptance is key. Acceptance that you are now a witch and are able to perform magic. You rebel at the very idea, and as such, it is hindering your true potential.”

Lauren blinked, wondering if she had heard him right. She slowly leaned forward in her chair, her eyes glinting with pitted fury. “Let me get this straight,” she snarled. “You’re saying that once I have ‘accepted’ that I am stuck in this word, I’ll embrace my magical side and will be able to harness my magic?” Lauren had been expecting some sort of sage wisdom, not this load of hippy crap.

Snape’s black eyes glinted dangerously back at her. “Tell me, Miss Ward,” he drawled darkly, “what do you remember about the circumstances that brought you to this world in the first place?”

Lauren growled in frustration. Why did he keep trying to derail her by changing the subject? “I’ve told you before – I got drunk, passed out on the couch, and woke up on the blasted floor of the Great Hall.”

“Nothing else?”

Lauren stared at him, ignoring the tingling in the back of her head that suggested there was, indeed, more. Something that she couldn’t remember. “You suspect something?”

“Perhaps.”

Lauren shook her head and stood up, having enough of his silly mind games. He couldn’t even give her a proper answer. “This is ludicrous!”

Snape abruptly rose to his full height. “I agree. Until you can fully accept what you are now, I am unable to help you any further until you do so.”

“Then I guess you’ll be waiting for quite some time,” she snapped. “Because I’ll never accept this. I don’t belong here! This is not my world! And if you want me to accept that, then you’re the crazy old bat everyone says you are!”

Snape flung his arm out, pointing towards the door. “Out!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

She didn’t need to be told twice. Lauren stormed away, but not before she flipped Snape the birdie on her way out. The door slammed loudly behind her, narrowly missing hitting the back of her head.

Lauren seethed the whole way back to her room.

_Acceptance! This is all about bloody acceptance! Screw that! I’ll show him acceptance when I shove that bloody broomstick up his uptight…_

So immersed was she in her internal diatribe that she did not notice a dark figure hidden in the shadows, watching her with unveiled intrigue. Once she had entered the Slytherin Common Room, the figure stepped out, his true identity revealed by the dimly lit lamps.

“There’s something about her,” Quirrell mused.

_Yes, but we need to wait…she may prove to be the answer to my problem…_

“Yes, my Lord,” Quirrell replied before swiftly leaving the dungeons.


	9. Chapter 9

September gave way to October akin to the ever-subtle progression of the changing seasons; unnoticed by most until it was suddenly upon them in the blink of an eye.

The only way to pass the time and keep her mind off matters, Lauren found, was to throw herself into schoolwork, and she even made a considerable effort during class and with her homework. Otherwise, her inner turmoil threatened to tear a gash through her very psyche.

But, when alone at night while she lay in bed, the sounds of the waters of the Black Lake sloshing gently against the dorm windows, Lauren felt as though she were suffocating.

_It’s been over a month and still no news…_

Her despair was threatening to crash down upon her like a crushing wave.

And throughout, one thought stuck out clear in her mind.

Snape was not very optimistic with the hope that she would ever return to her world, or strongly suspected that she would not be able to do so. Lauren did not want to believe him, to even consider it a possibility, but a small logical part of her thought that he might be right, especially since she had heard nothing back for the all-knowing Dumbledore. And she was fast starting to lose hope, as feeble as it had been.

And then there was the frosty wall that had descended between Lauren and Snape since their last encounter.

They were making a concerted effort to keep their distance from each other; the Potion Master determinedly choosing to pretend that Lauren did not exist, which suited her just fine. She was still spitting mad that he had given her the useless advice that she should just accept her new life here and deal with it. It was easy for him to say – he was not the one having to redo school all over again and learn something foreign like wielding magic, which did not come naturally to Lauren. That’s what made his statement so callous. He hadn’t an inkling of what she was going through. Therefore, her fury towards him fueled her into ignoring him with equal measure, if not more so.

During Potion lessons Snape very rarely approached her station, if at all, and when he did so it was usually to check on Tracey’s potion. Not once did he glance Lauren’s way. And not once did she deign to acknowledge his presence, treating him as though he were some irritating shadow that she unfortunately had to deal with a few times a week.

And though they tried to pretend each other’s existence was nonexistent, there was no denying the tension brewing between like a thunderous storm cloud unfurling ominously over the horizon. It was only a matter of time before things came to a head. 

She knew their actions were childish and something was going to have to give soon, but both were too damn stubborn and headstrong for their own good to attempt to smooth things over between them.

If Lauren wanted to admit to herself - which she did not - she didn’t particularly enjoy this animosity that had been established between them like an iron curtain. If anything, it was eating away at her. But she would not yield on this. She would not accept that she was stuck here. She was determined to return to her old life at all cost, even though the hope of doing so looked slim to none as the days turned into weeks.

Dumbledore was the only one who would be able to yield some answers and, thus far, it seemed that he was just as determined to avoid her as much as Severus. He was a hard man to find, she was fast learning, especially when he did not want to be found.

She had attempted to seek him out in his office one day, but found her way blocked by the unmoving stone gargoyle, who refused to budge even when she used the password she had heard Dumbledore use the last time she was here. She had then tried a variation of passwords of the candy that she knew existed in this world, but none had worked. Or maybe the gargoyle had been commanded not to grant her entrance under any circumstances. She wouldn’t put it past Dumbledore to have done just that.

Her persistent attempts had been interrupted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall.

“What do you think you are doing, Miss Ward?” the formidable witch demanded in her stern voice.

Lauren startled and whirled around to come face to face with the towering Professor, who was peering down at her from over her spectacles.

“I just wanted a word with the Headmaster, Professor,” she replied sullenly, having recovered from her fright.

McGonagall studied her critically, almost as though she were expecting deception from the girl. “The Headmaster is rather busy right now. Might I suggest that you head back to your dorm and maybe work on your Transfiguration homework.”

That was a blatant hint if ever she heard one. Lauren was struggling with Transfiguration. In fact, she was struggling with all her classes that required her to do spell work or magic which, admittedly, meant almost all of them. For some reason, she could not master her magic. Well, Snape had given her the explanation as to why that was, but she was still stubbornly refusing to accept it. She was very much in denial. Lauren was still rebelling against the idea of wielding magic and being here in a world where she did not belong.

“But I need to speak to him,” she protested. “It’s urgent.”

“It usually always is,” McGonagall muttered. “Now go on and don’t let me catch you here again.”

Taking one look at her teacher, Lauren knew that there was no challenging this particular woman. McGonagall would not back down.

Shooting McGonagall a dark scowl, Lauren stormed away. She had not tried since then to seek out Dumbledore, knowing that it would be a lost cause until he was ready to have an audience with her.

Her frustration with Dumbledore and lack of answers, as well as the building tension between her and Snape was causing many restless nights for Lauren.

She would often wake up in the early hours of the morning after having tossed and turned all night, her dreams predominantly that of a shadowy figure looming over her, its arm raised and ready to…strike? Lauren didn’t know what the intentions of this mystery figure was, but the way her heart pounded when she awoke with a start led her to believe that it was nothing good.

On those nights she would crawl out of bed and stare out her window at the swishing murky waters beyond, trying to calm her erratic thoughts; dark and morose thoughts that did nothing for her plummeting spirits.

Tonight was no different, though the shadowy figure in her dream had started to come more into focus, but still remained frustratingly indistinguishable. Lauren awoke with a gasp, drenched in clammy, cold sweat, certain that the identity of the person in her dreams had come very close to being revealed.

Lauren calmed her breathing and frowned to herself as she stared up at the canopy of her bed. The dream had not felt like a dream at all, but rather a memory. Though, a memory of what she could not recall, but she knew that the answer as to how she had arrived in the world of Harry Potter lay within that memory.

Deciding she would not be able to get back to sleep again, Lauren staggered out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower.

By the time she had washed away the remnants of her dream and had dressed in her school uniform, the others were beginning to stir. Tracey was the first up, her eyes narrowing when she noticed that Lauren was not only up before her but was also fully dressed and her school bag packed.

“This is the third time this week you’ve gotten up early,” she remarked as she climbed out of bed, her sleek bob barely mussed up. Lauren envied hair like that.

Lauren chose not to point out that it had actually been more than three times. She had woken up early practically every day of the week for the past month. Lauren had simply chosen to remain in bed until Tracey and the others arose.

“Is everything okay?”

Lauren shrugged, not really in the mood for conversation. “Yup. Everything’s peachy,” she mumbled tiredly, too fatigued to offer up her usual morning dose of sarcasm.

Tracey eyed her, contemplating whether it would be a good idea to push Lauren for a truthful answer. Finally, deciding that it was indeed not wise to do so, she proceeded to get ready in silence.

They made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, Lauren dragging her heels and barely managing to muster up any energy to greet the other Slytherins already seated at the table. Tracey kept shooting her concerned glances throughout breakfast, but Lauren resolutely ignored her as she listlessly pushed her food around her plate with her fork.

As breakfast progressed, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end as Lauren sensed someone watching her. And she could wager a good guess as to who that someone was. But she refused to glance up at the teacher’s table where Severus Snape was covertly watching her from behind the inky black curtain of his hair.

His features were set in hard, grim lines as he studied her, noting that as the month had progressed, a change had overcome her. And not a good change by the looks it. Dark circles ringed around her midnight blue eyes, hinting that she had not been sleeping well. Then there was also the lack of appetite. Lauren spent most of breakfast, lunch and dinner pushing her food around her plate, only taking a few small bites in between. Her naturally ivory skin was now pallid and unhealthy looking, and her already petite frame was starting to show signs of gauntness.

Snape frowned, lifting his coffee mug to his lips and taking a small sip of the bitter liquid. He was not pleased with his observations.

Suddenly Lauren’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto his. She scowled darkly at him before standing abruptly and striding from the Great Hall, her long waves flouncing down her back. Tracey looked bewildered and, after a moment’s hesitation, followed after her friend.

Snape’s frown deepened, his irritation now morphing into deep concern. Lauren looked very much on the verge of breaking.

Snape cast his dark gaze over to the Headmaster, who was animatedly engaged in a conversation with Flitwick. He was going to have to have a word with Dumbledore before the day was through.

It had not gone unnoticed by Severus that Dumbledore was very much avoiding Miss Ward. Whether it was because he didn’t have an answer, or didn’t want to give her the answer, Snape could not yet tell. As with everything, Dumbledore kept his secrets and intentions well guarded, revealing them only when he thought it necessary.

But the time had now come to step in. Lauren couldn’t carry on like this. Either they sent her back to her world, or they needed to find another way to help her, regardless of whether she wanted that help or not.

Snape let out a soft sigh. Knowing Lauren, aiding her was not going to be easy. She was about as prickly as what he was, and she would resist at every turn. Unless something drastic happened.

As he peered at the Headmaster, Snape suddenly realized that this was exactly what Dumbledore was waiting for. He was waiting for something to happen. _But what?_ Snape didn’t have the answer, but he was going to demand it when he sought out Dumbledore at the end of the day.

Rising to his feet, Severus strode from the Hall in a billow of black and headed down to the dungeon, Lauren’s predicament weighing heavy on his already burdened shoulders.

~oOo~

The Slytherins’ last lesson for the day was History of Magic. It had fast become apparent to Lauren that the books had not been exaggerating about Professor Binns. His ghostly form droned on and on, his monotonous lectures often putting half the class to sleep within the first ten minutes. His lessons were neither interesting nor riveting and did little to captivate the students’ attention.

Lauren usually applied the tactic of zoning Binns out and instead took notes from her textbook throughout the lesson. It normally worked and she was able to stay awake during class and retain some information needed for the essays required for homework.

But this method wasn’t working today. Lauren was dead tired, the past month’s lack of sleep finally catching up to her, and she just could not concentrate. She stared back at the silvery ghost with glazed eyes, her focus slipping with each ticking second.

She caught herself nodding off repeatedly and earnestly tried her best to stay awake, but it was a losing battle. Finally giving up the fight, Lauren rested her head upon her crossed arms on the desk. It wasn’t long before sleep pulled her under like an enchanting siren’s call.

_Lauren finished off the last of the wine, letting the now empty bottle drop to the floor with a thud. The alcohol was doing wonders to make her forget Deacon. The tension had long since ebbed from her body, leaving her feeling more content and relaxed than she had felt in a long time. She rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes in alcohol-induced bliss, passing out in a matter of seconds._

_Something prickled along the recesses of her subconscious, alerting her to the fact that something was seriously wrong. She groaned, struggling to wake up, but her eyelids felt like they were made of lead._

_The floorboard creaked not too far from where she was, and she suddenly knew that she was not alone. _

_Her heart started to beat erratically in her chest as she struggled to blink open her eyes. Her vision was blurred, though she could definitely discern that someone standing in front of her. She blinked again and this time the figure came into hazy focus._

_Deacon._

_The very blood in her veins froze to ice as he raised his hand over his head, his weapon of choice now revealed – a baseball bat. His features were contorted into an ugly rage-filled mask and his pale blue eyes were now dark orb of murderous hate and intent. And his intentions were very clear: he was going to kill her._

_Terror unlike she had ever felt before flooded her and Lauren opened her mouth to scream. But her scream was cut off mid-breath as Deacon swung the bat down, catching Lauren across the side of her head._

_White starbursts clouded her vision as Lauren was sent reeling to the floor, pain cleaving her head in two. Her mind was screaming at her to get up and try and escape, but it was as though her body was paralyzed, unable to move or fight back. _

_An odd whimpering sound made its way to her ringing ears and Lauren realized with a start that she was the one making that noise. _

_Black combat boots entered her field of vision and this time she did try to struggle up to her hands and knees, desperately trying to push past the agony and escape. _

_Then the blows rained down upon her, each one more excruciating than the last, and Lauren collapsed once more to the floor, unable to fight back. _

_She tried to scream, knowing with certainty that tonight she was going to die at the hands of this monster, but her screams would not sound._

_Another blow landed viciously upon the back of her skull with a sickening crack. Lauren watched the pool of crimson blood ooze across the floor, dimly aware that everything was going black. _

“LAUREN!”

Lauren’s eyes shot open. She was lying on the stone floor of the classroom drenched in sweat, her chair toppled over nearby on the floor. Her throat was dry and parched, almost as though she had been shrieking at the top of her lungs. And judging by the frightened expressions on each of the students faces, that’s exactly what she had been doing.

Tracey was gripping her upper arms, apparently having tried to shake her awake from the nightmare.

_No, _Lauren corrected herself. _That was no nightmare – that was a memory. _

Bile rose to her throat as she recalled the feel of each agonizing blow.

_I died. _

Lauren scrambled to her feet and dashed from the classroom, racing blindly down the corridor at breakneck speed.

_I was murdered._

She rounded the corner and flew down the staircase.

_I’m dead._

Down another flight of stairs, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she raced along a deserted corridor.

_I’m dead, _her mind screamed over and over again, the words echoing with a dreadful finality.

Lauren entered a room at random and somehow managed to close the door behind her before she fell to her hands and knees, retching violently.

Once the contents of her stomach were emptied, Lauren sat back on her heels, crossing her arms tightly across her middle as she rocked back and forth. She felt numb and cold at the same time, her heart twisting painfully in her chest.

_Deacon killed me._

The silence of the room was broken by her anguished cry, the bare stone walls the only witness to her breakdown. Lauren bowed her head and sobbed uncontrollably as the reality of what had happened hit her. Her heart felt like it had split into a million shards, each piece stabbing her to the very core with crippling torment.

She rocked back and forth as she wept alone in that room.

After some time, Lauren lifted her tear stained face, her bleary gaze coming to rest upon a gilded framed mirror.

_The Mirror of Erised._

Instead of seeing what she truly desired, all Lauren witnessed was her own pitiful reflection staring back at her. In that precise moment she realized that all she had desired before was to return back to her world. But that was not possible now. There was no way she could return now.

Lauren hung her head as fresh waves of body-wracking sobs consumed her.

Suddenly she was being drawn against a solid chest, strong arms and layers of black material enveloping her in a protective cocoon. The familiar scent of herbs and old parchment penetrated her consciousness, letting her know that it was Severus Snape who was holding her. Lauren wept bitterly in his arms, fisting her hands into the material of his robes as she clung to him in desperation.

Snape held her as he crouched on the hard, cold stone floor, his embrace hardly being described as comforting. But Lauren felt oddly safe in his arms as she cried herself out. Not once did he try to pull away, nor did he murmur any nonsensical words of platitude. He simply held her.

Lauren finally pulled back, feeling spent of all emotions and energy. A flutter of white appeared in her vision and she numbly accepted the handkerchief, mopping away the traces of her tears.

“What happened, Lauren?” Severus enquired softly.

Lauren slowly lifted her gaze, her tear-filled eyes meeting his own dark ones.

“I died.” Crystalline tears trickled from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. “Deacon murdered me…back in my world.”

A slight frown creased his brows as Severus regarded her. More tears spilled from her eyes and suddenly Snape pulled her back against him with crushing intensity, his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her against him, letting her cry.

Finally, when her cries had subsided, Snape pulled away and reached into the pocket of his robes, producing a vial of potion.

“A Calming Draught,” Severus explained, his voice calm and precise.

He unstoppered the vial and handed it to Lauren. She took it with a trembling hand and raised it to her lips, swallowing down the liquid in one gulp. Snape pocketed the now empty vial before rising to his feet and helping Lauren up.

“Do you think you can manage the walk back to my office?” he asked, his grip still firmly on her upper arm as he peered down at her.

Lauren gave a small nod, her eyes puffy and her pale cheeks blotchy. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. All she wanted to do was forget.

Severus regarded her for a moment and then guided her with uncharacteristic gentleness towards the door.

When the echoing treads of their footsteps had faded away, Quirrell stepped out of a shadowy nook he had been hiding in and cancelled the Disillusionment Charm he had cast upon himself.

“She…she died,” Quirrell stammered, frowning deeply. “But she is alive! How is that even possible?

The voice that responded in Quirrell’s head sounded distinctly excited.

_I need her! Within her body lies the key to cheating death…_


	10. Chapter 10

Silence.

An eerie stillness permeated the cold stone room. Not even the ticking of a clock sounded. Lauren felt as though she were sitting in a wintry, hallow tomb as she waited on the couch Snape had transfigured for her.

Every fiber of her being felt numbed, the Calming Draught that now coursed through her veins deadening all emotions or hysterics that would otherwise threaten to overwhelm her. She could only stare with hallow dispassion at the plush forest green rug sprawled at her feet, feeling like a former shell of herself.

_I’m dead._

This thought echoed inside her mind in a detached sort of way, like she was analyzing this revelation with cold, hard logic.

Lauren slowly lifted her gaze with great effort, her head feeling unnaturally heavy. She longed to lay her head down upon the soft cushioning of the couch and just drift off to sleep. But Snape had said he would be returning with Dumbledore and Lauren knew she needed to stay awake for _that _conversation.

And even if she did manage to nod off, Lauren was dead certain that nightmares would plague her dreams for the remainder of her days.

_How does one get over the fact that they have been murdered?_

Lauren eyes fluttered closed as she leaned her head back against the couch, feeling as though the edges of her very being were fading to black.

If it hadn’t been for the potion Severus had given her, Lauren knew she would be freaking out and having a complete breakdown right now. Though, in all fairness, she had already had her breakdown. In front of all her classmates.

Opening her eyes, Lauren found she could barely muster up the energy to care about the malicious taunts that were surely to follow. After all, what was mild degrees of bullying compared to the fact that she had been murdered?

The door to Snape’s office swung open smoothly on its hinges and in strode the Potion Master and Dumbledore himself.

_Light and Dark_, she thought to herself.

Lauren slowly turned her head to regard them and then, just as slowly, she shifted her gaze back to the ceiling.

She felt the cushioning next to her dip as Dumbledore settled himself beside her.

“Miss Ward, Professor Snape has filled me in on what happened,” he said with noticeable concern.

Lauren’s eyelids fluttered closed. A beat passed. Then another. “Then why are you here?”

There was a pause. “I am here to help you, Miss Ward,” he stated kindly, his gravelly voice soft and reassuring.

Lauren let out a snort, though it lacked her usual derision. “I’m dead back in my own world. I think it’s obvious that you cannot help me now.”

Another prolonged pause. “I cannot reverse what has been done, but -.”

“But what?” she asked monotonously, finally blinking open her eyes. She found it strange that she lacked any sort of righteous anger that this moment called for, or that she wasn’t even in hysterics. She shouldn’t be feeling this…numb. The Calming Draught was only a means to calm her down, not deaden her emotions quite noticeably, and she briefly wondered if Snape had overdosed her. She highly doubted it and had to conclude that it was a combination of shock and the potion.

She glanced over at the dark figure of Severus, who was currently leaning back against his desk, his arms folded in front of him as he silently listened to the conversation unravelling before him. His features were but a mask and revealed nothing of his inner thoughts or emotions. Even his dark eyes, which could show deep pitted fury or unconcealed loathing, were guarded.

With great effort, Lauren straightened up and angled her body so that she was now facing Dumbledore. Today he wore robes that were of a resplendent buttercup hue and she glimpsed bright mismatched socks peeking out from under his robes. Small tinkling bells had been weaved into his long silver beard. Why, she hadn’t a clue.

_The eccentric Dumbledore. I shouldn’t be surprised._

“Is this the part,” Lauren continued, “where you tell me that now it’s impossible for me to go back to my world, I should embrace my life here. And you’ll help me along the way, right?” Somehow, she managed to inflect a good amount of sarcasm into her words despite the deadness inside her. “Or was there another alternative?”

Dumbledore settled back into the plush cushioning and folded his aged hands in his lap, a small sigh escaping his lips as he maintained eye contact. There was deep remorse peeking through those all-knowing blue eyes.

“What happened to you, Miss Ward, was terrible, and I am really sorry -.”

“Did you know?” Lauren interrupted. At Dumbledore’s puzzled expression, she clarified. “Did you know that I had died?”

Dumbledore levelled her with a penetrating look that gave nothing away. “No, Miss Ward, I did not know that you had died.”

“Did you suspect, though?”

“My suspicions varied far and wide, I admit, but your death was not one of those hunches. I guessed that the answer of what truly had happened to you lay within you, and it was only a matter of time before all was revealed. And now the truth has come to light and, sadly, it was far worse than what I expected.”

“So these past few weeks you’ve been, what? Waiting?”

“Yes.”

Lauren just stared at him. “Did you even make any enquiries at the Ministry?” she asked flatly.

He gave her a small, crooked smile. “Of course I did.”

“And?”

“Ah,” he sighed regretfully. “Unfortunately, your predicament is unique; such an occurrence has never been witnessed before.” Dumbledore paused, peering at her over his half-moon glasses, studying her in all seriousness. “I did receive some very interesting news today, as a matter of fact, concerning you specifically…”

“From whom?”

“A trusted official at the Ministry.”

“Do you think this is the right time for such revelations?” Snape interrupted, his voice carefully neutral, though his dark scowl that matched his raven hair foretold that he did not think Dumbledore’s next course of action appropriate. “Miss Ward has suffered a major shock. At least give her some time to absorb what has happened to her before dumping more news upon her.”

Lauren slowly turned her head towards Snape. Every movement felt sluggish and delayed. She frowned at the expression upon his features. It was almost as though he were being…protective over her, which only confused her more.

Dumbledore smoothed down his beard. “I agree, Severus. This can wait until Miss Ward is ready to receive the news.”

Under normal circumstances, Lauren would have argued on that point, her curiosity getting the better of her. But at this very moment, she just didn’t care. Her chat with Dumbledore would have to wait until she was in her right frame of mind.

Dumbledore reached over and patted her hand in a grandfatherly way. “When you are ready, we will talk more of it, Miss Ward. In the meantime, you take all the time you need. And Miss Ward?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his own.

“I truly am sorry that this happened to you,” he stated sincerely. “The fate you have suffered is not one anyone should go through.”

Lauren’s gaze was drawn to Snape, the irony of his fate not wasted on her. “Yet you shall be responsible for pushing such a fate upon another in the future.” Her tone was flat, but there was no mistaking the tears that now glimmered in her midnight blue eyes.

Dumbledore frowned at her cryptic words, his eyes flickering briefly towards the dark Potion Master. If he understood her meaning, he kept it hidden behind his schooled features. He studied her for a moment before he spoke again.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your room, or would you prefer to remain in Severus’ company for the time being?” he asked, choosing to change the subject.

Lauren didn’t think she was up to returning to her room and being bombarded with questions by her fellow Slytherins. Even though she was doped up with Calming Draught, it didn’t necessarily mean she wouldn’t attempt to throttle them if they started annoying her.

There was only one person she trusted enough, and whom she knew would not ask unnecessary questions.

“I want to stay here,” she mumbled, casting a quick glance in Severus’ direction. “Just for a little bit. If that’s okay with Professor Snape.”

There was a poignant pause and then Severus spoke up, his usually abrasive attitude deceptively calm. “Very well,” he replied. Lauren could not tell is he was agreeable with this arrangement or not.

Dumbledore nodded to himself and turned his attention back to Lauren. “Is there anything I can get for you?” His words sounded so heartfelt and Lauren did believe that he really was sorry for what had happened to her.

“I just want to…forget,” she whispered, settling back into the cushioning of the couch.

“We have all wished that at some point, Miss Ward,” Dumbledore replied kindly, albeit sadly. “There are some wounds that never heal. These scars make us who we are, and without them we do not exist.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lip. “So you’re saying I should draw strength from this and move forward.”

“That is entirely up to you, Miss Ward.” Dumbledore rose to his feet. “When you are ready to talk, the gargoyle will grant you entrance,” he said with a slight bow of his head towards her.

Severus escorted Dumbledore to the door, holding it open for the old wizard. They conversed briefly in hushed tones; their words unintelligible to Lauren’s ears. Lauren’s eyes fluttered closed, wishing for nothing more than oblivion.

She heard the door close with a soft _click _and a few moments of silence passed.

“Miss Ward?”

Lauren opened her eyes to find Severus standing in front of her, a vial clutched in his extended hand.

“Dreamless Sleep,” he explained.

Lauren took the proffered vial, a slight frown furrowing her brows. “I don’t plan to sleep here.”

“Would you rather go back to your dorm and face your peers, who will undoubtedly probe you with an endless stream of questions?”

Lauren grimaced at the unappealing thought. “No. Not really. But I can’t very well hide out here.”

“You can make your decisions in the morning. For now, take what I am offering you and get at least one night’s peace.”

Lauren studied the vial in her hand, the smooth glass black and oblique. She slowly lifted her gaze to his. “Did _you_ suspect?”

Snape regarded her with those obsidian eyes that seemed to bore into her very soul. A slight frown etched between his brows as he studied her, and a thought occurred to Lauren.

“Are you reading my mind?”

His frown deepened. “Mind reading is a Muggle terminology, Miss Ward. A very inaccurate one at that.”

If Lauren was feeling herself, she would have rolled her eyes and have given him a scathing and sarcastic reply. Instead, she let it drop. For now. Though it did not escape her attention that he hadn’t exactly answered her question.

“Did you suspect?” she repeated.

A few moments of silence stretched between them as she waited for his answer.

“I…suspected that something had happened that would prevent you from returning to your own world. Did I believe that you had been murdered? No. It was a farfetched possibility that would never have occurred to me,” he lectured.

Lauren’s gaze was drawn once more to the vial clutched in her hand.

“Drink it, Miss Ward. The next few days are going to be…difficult, to say the least.”

Her gaze fluttered up to his. She wondered if Severus was talking from experience. Had the days, weeks, months and even years that followed Lily’s death been torturous for him, to the point where he wished for nothing but death himself? As Lauren studied him, she knew the answer was most definitely yes. How he managed to draw up the strength to continue on with life after his devastating loss was incomprehensible to her. But he had done it. Somehow, he had pushed through the crippling pain. Lauren was starting to have a renewed respect for the man standing in front of her.

His frown turned into a dark scowl and she had her answer right there and then. Severus Snape was, indeed, skimming through her thoughts.

Lauren lifted the bottle to her lips and downed the smooth liquid in one swallow. She barely had time to hand Severus back the bottle before she slumped back on the couch, her eyelids weighing heavy.

“How did you get through it?” she asked, her words slurred as the potion tried to pull her under. She, of course, was referring to Lily’s death.

The silence that followed her words were deafening and she was grateful she had waited until after she had drunk the potion to ask her question. She really didn’t want to be awake when his fury burst forth like a violently erupting volcano at her for having asked such a personal and painful question.

“Like you,” he whispered harshly, “this is something that you’ll never get over. It will stay with you for the remainder of your days.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“That is your answer. Now go to sleep.”

Lauren was about to obey, but then another thought occurred to her. “Why do you want me to stay? Ever since I arrived here, it almost feels like you’ve been pushing for me to stay…”

Silence was her only answer, Snape didn’t bother to answer her question, and it wasn’t long before the potion pulled her under into a deep and dreamless sleep, just as Snape had promised.

~oOo~

It was the early hours of the morning when Lauren awoke, finding herself sprawled out on the couch. A fuzzy warm blanket had been draped over her and a pillow had been placed under her head.

Lauren stared up at the ceiling. The Calming Draught had worn off along with the Dreamless Sleep potion, and now she waited for the cascade of emotions to overwhelm her and draw her back under its drowning, crushing current.

But all that permeated her sense was hollowness.

Lauren couldn’t comprehend why she wasn’t more emotional following the revelation that she was dead back in her own world and had no hope of returning.

It was then that she realized that she had been, subconsciously, expecting it. Not to discover that she had been murdered, of course, but she had been bracing herself for the possibility that she could never return.

Lauren sat up and leaned her elbows on her knees, holding her head in her hands. And suddenly she was deluged with the sense that she was suffocating. She needed to get out. She needed to clear her head.

Soon the castle would be bustling with students, and right now she really didn’t want to be in the midst of all that trivialness.

Not when everything had changed overnight.

Not when she had changed in the blink of an eye.

Not when things would never be the same again.

Lauren stood abruptly, the blanket falling to a pool at her feet, and exited Snape’s office without a backward glance. She made her way through the dimly lit passages and up the stairs until she finally found herself in front of the main doors of the castle. She pushed against the wood, expecting it not to yield. So it was to her great surprise when the heavy wooden doors opened enough for her to slip though.

She now stood in the Quad, the crisp morning air slapping her in the face. She inhaled a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily as the coldness filled her lungs, piercing through the deadness inside of her.

Blinking open her eyes, Lauren made her way to the zigzagging stairs that led to the boathouse down below. She paused at the top of the stairs, her gaze drifting over the black mirror-like surface of the Black Lake. Lauren shivered as the cool morning air clawed at her exposed flesh, but she reveled in it. It was proof that she was alive.

A large tentacle rose from the waters, waving lazily in the air before slithering back under without causing so much as a ripple.

_This was my world now and, like it or not, I’m going to have to embrace it. I have no other choice, _her mind supplied as she stared at the horizon with unseeing eyes.

Dumbledore’s words echoed back to her: _There are some wounds that never heal. These scars make us who we are, and without them we do not exist._

Yes, this scar would be forever with her, ingrained into her very psyche – just as Snape said it would be. Her death would stay with her for the remainder of her days. She could choose to either crumble under the weight of this revelation, or if she could rise from the ashes, stronger than before.

With these thoughts came a subtle and undetectable stirring of change within her.

Lauren glanced back at the looming castle behind her, the cool wind teasing the tendrils of her hair. She was going to have to face the music sometime and return to the stares and whispers, as well as the questions she really didn’t want to answer.

_Just not today. _

With that thought, Lauren descended the stairs until she arrived at the boathouse. She leaned against the glass paneling and closed her eyes, finally letting the tears flow, silent and unheard. She sunk to the ground giving herself over to this day of grief that she had allowed herself.

_I’m going to have to undo everything that I was and remake myself anew_, she thought as she hugged her knees tight to her chest, her tears a symbolism of her saying goodbye to her old life.

~oOo~

Evening was fast approaching by the time Lauren trudged back up to the castle, slipping in unnoticed and keeping to the shadows as she made her way down to the dungeons.

But the Slytherin common room was not her intended destination. Instead, without knocking, she slipped into the Potion’s classroom, closing the door quietly behind her. It was empty, a certain gloom permeating the cold room as she stared at the rows upon rows of pickled jars, the contents floating within unrecognizable to her eyes.

Lauren strode to the end of the room towards the door that led to Snape’s private office, knocking this time.

No sooner had she lowered her hand than the door was flung open by Severus, who scowled down darkly at her.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, she found herself being roughly yanked inside, the door shutting behind them with an echoing bang.

Snape cast a Muffliato Charm and warded the door before he rounded on her.

“Where were you?” he snarled.

Lauren blinked, taken aback. She didn’t think her absence had unsettled him that much. In fact, she had thought he would have been rather happy that she had left and would be out of his way.

“I, uh, went down to the boathouse. I just needed some time alone.”

He regarded her with rapidly cooling eyes, though his fury still blazed beneath the surface. “You could have at least informed me of your intentions. Do you realize how foolish it was to leave the safety of my office without letting me know?”

Lauren blinked, realizing she had forgotten all about the threat of Quirrell. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that,” she replied timidly. “I…I just had to get out.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. Lauren swore he was mentally counting to ten to calm himself.

“Were you…worried about me?” she asked, thinking that she must have this all wrong.

He met her confused gaze with his own guarded one. “You are my student and ward and, as a Slytherin, your safety and wellbeing are my responsibility.”

Lauren just stared at him. Midnight blue meeting obsidian black.

Suddenly Snape turned on his heel and marched over to his desk, seating himself gracefully in his chair. He motioned with a sharp flick of his wrist for Lauren to sit as well.

“Now why did you come to see me?” he asked after she was seated. If he noted her puffy eyes, he chose not to comment on it.

Lauren steeled herself as she was reminded of the main reason she had sought him out. “I came to ask you if I could have another vial of that Dreamless Sleep?”

“It is unwise to become reliant on it. You’re going to have to face what happened to you sooner or later.”

Lauren leaned back in her chair and rubbed tiredly at her forehead. “I know that, Severus.”

“Professor Snape,” he corrected in his usual severe manner. “I am your teacher and you are my student, Miss Ward.”

Lauren sighed. “Fine, _Professor Snape._” Lauren inhaled deeply and continued. “I’ve had time to think and I know that I have no choice but to move forward. I’m essentially going to have to undo myself and remake myself all over again. And I will face my demons…_Sir,_ but I just want one more night of…peace.”

She slowly lifted her gaze to find Severus regarding her thoughtfully over his steepled fingers. Then he stood so abruptly that it caused Lauren to flinch, thinking he was going to chuck her from his office. Instead he strode over to a cabinet on the other side of the room and selected a vial before warding it shut again.

He placed the vial on the desk in front of her and seated himself once more in a billow of black. Lauren picked up the bottle and pocketed it with a murmured thanks. She debated with herself whether to ask her next question and decided to plunge ahead.

“Can I…Can I stay here tonight?” she asked, unable to meet his gaze.

“No,” was his instant, and firm reply.

Lauren was unsurprised by this response. In fact, she would have been shocked if he had agreed. She rose from her chair with a nod.

“But you may remain here until the students have gone to the Great Hall for dinner and then slip back to your room undetected.”

Lauren stilled, surprised by the consideration he was showing towards her. Her mind drifted back to the question she had asked last night; the question he had not answered.

Snape, she was sure, wanted her to stay in this world and embrace being a witch. The big question was why?

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

Lauren shook her head. Snape motioned with a long-fingered hand for her to sit down again and he summoned Blinky, who appeared with a loud _pop._

The little house-elf’s bat-like ears flapped as she bowed beside Snape.

“Can you please get Miss Ward something to eat and drink, Blinky? I’m sure anything will do, considering her appetite has been nonexistent of late,” he drawled, shooting Lauren a disapproving look.

Blinked squeaked out a delighted, and unintelligible, affirmative response and disappeared with another loud _pop._

Lauren wanted to protest, saying that she wasn’t very hungry, but no sooner had she opened her mouth than the elf appeared again, this time her head hidden behind a tray which was overflowing with an assortment of food. Only her flappy ears could be seen peeking out over the top of the towering dishes.

With surprising agility, Blinky placed the tray on the desk in front of Lauren.

“Uh, thank you, Blinky,” Lauren murmured, her eyes still glued to all the food, wondering how she was possibly supposed to eat all of _that._

Blinky’s ears flapped happily and she bowed before disappearing once more.

“Eat,” Snape commanded.

Lauren glanced up to see a sardonic smirk curl at his lips, amusement plain to see in the depths of his dark eyes.

“How?” she asked. “There’s way too much, even if I did have an appetite.”

“Humor me,” he drawled, though there was no ignoring the threat in his tone. Lauren had better start eating or else he would somehow force it down her throat.

Lauren picked up the mug of tea and took a sip, closing her eyes as the warm liquid washed down her throat. Glancing up and seeing Snape watching with a no-nonsense expression, she picked out a small steak and kidney pie from the lot and picked at it with her fork.

“I’m waiting, Miss Ward,” he stated in a deadly undertone.

Lauren sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him, and started eating. Her stomach roiled at the thought of food, but she robotically ate the small pie. Once she had finished the last mouthful, her stomach ached in protest. It had been almost a month since she had eaten a full meal, so it was no wonder it was settling heavy on her digestive system.

“Happy?” she asked mulishly as she sipped at her tea, shifting in her chair to get more comfortable and fighting to keep her food down.

Instead of answering, Snape rose to his feet. His features set in an unreadable mask. “The students should all be in the Great Hall now. I will escort you back to your dorm.”

Lauren rose with a groan, her belly protesting at any sudden movement. Snape held the door open for her and soon they were walking side by side back to the Slytherin Common Room, Snape keeping his pace even with hers.

Snape halted outside the doors and then angled his body slightly so that he was now facing her. “Drink that potion and tomorrow I expect you to be back in classes again.”

“Just like that?” Personally, she thought he was being a bit callous, but this was Snape she was talking about.

“Yes. You are strong, Miss Ward. Stronger than you give yourself credit for. It will not do you any justice to wallow in self-pity. There is nothing to be done to change what has happened, so the best course of action is to accept it and push forward.”

He didn’t give her time to respond as he turned abruptly and strode away in a billow of black, his robes flapping at his heels.

Lauren shook her head and entered the now empty common room. She made her way to her room and settled onto her bed. Pulling the vial from her pocket she eyed it thoughtfully.

Snape was right. She could not wallow in self-pity or grief. What was done was done, and there was no undoing it, no matter how much she willed it.

A sense of determination overcame her. She was strong, often being described as a tough-as-nails-bitch on more than one occasion. But it did not mean she didn’t have a heart. She hurt just like everyone else.

But now it was time to forge ahead and rise from the ashes like the phoenix.

Lauren unstoppered the vial and downed the liquid in one gulp, soon being pulled under the potion’s mercy.


	11. Chapter 11

Lauren awoke after a blissful night of no haunting nightmares plaguing her dreams. Though, this would be the last night of peace for her as Snape had made it crystal clear that he would not be giving her any more of the Dreamless Sleep potion.

Lauren rubbed at her face and glanced around, noting that the other girls were still asleep. She lay there for a few minutes, an unnatural calmness enveloping her. Deciding to get up, Lauren made her way to the bathroom and washed her face. She grimaced when she caught sight of her pale, pinched features reflecting back at her in the mirror.

_You’ve reached a turning point now, Lauren. Time to buck up and show some of that backbone you’re famous for, _she mentally lectured herself. She drew in a deep breath and straightened, feeling her renewed resolve settle deep within her, fusing to her very core.

Teeth and hair brushed, Lauren padded back into the bedroom and dressed methodically for the day. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she sighed when she realized that she still had an hour yet until the others rose for the day.

Lauren made her way to one of the windows and leaned her shoulder against the pane, her resting her forehead against the cool glass as she stared into the green tinged waters sloshing gently against the glass.

_I am now a witch. This is my world. For good or bad, I must now embrace it._

Lauren glanced over her shoulder at her sleeping roommates, feeling a tinge of envy at their untainted and blissful slumber.

_They are not aware of the horrors lurking in the world. They have been protected and shielded, basking in the joyful ignorance of youth. But that will all change in a few years…_

Her thoughts drifted to the Sorting Hats and the words it had spoken to her.

She had been brought here to help Severus. Maybe not right now, but most assuredly in the coming future.

_But how do I do that without drastically changing things? _she pondered. _If I change but one single event, it could have a rippling effect and alter the outcome of the War to come. And probably for the worse._

Dumbledore had forewarned her about revealing details of future events and Lauren understood why. But she also recognized that she didn’t have the wisdom, nor the savvy, to get through the next seven years without royally fucking something up. She was going to need help, this much she knew.

But who could help her? It would be unwise to place this knowledge in Snape’s hands, even though she trusted him unequivocally. If Voldemort, when he returned to power, managed to extract this information from him, either through torture or Legilimency, then it was literally game over.

That left Dumbledore.

Lauren worried at her bottom lip. Dumbledore was the logical one to go to. But it didn’t mean he would be agreeable with her dumping this fountain of knowledge on him. But she had to at least try.

Lauren decided she would seek him out later on that week. He did, after all, have some important news to share with her, or so he claimed. She now had the perfect excuse now to pay him a visit.

The girls began to stir, shuffling out of bed all bleary-eyed and rumpled-haired. There was a momentary pause when they registered that Lauren was back, and she could not ignore the uncomfortable silence that descended upon the room as they cautiously prepared for the school day. Surreptitious glances were being cast in her direction, nearly bordering on mistrust.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out already!” Lauren finally snapped as she retrieved her school robes from the interior of her wardrobe.

All movement ceased and she turned to face them, a defiant glare plastered on her face as she eyed each of them, challenging them.

Not surprisingly, it was Pansy who spoke up first. “What exactly happened to you the other day?” Her brown eyes were almost slitted with simmering suspicion.

“A nightmare,” Lauren supplied, the words flowing easily from her tongue.

“A nightmare?” Daphne asked disbelievingly. “It sounded like you were being killed.”

_If only you realized how close to the truth you really are…_

“What can I say – I have an overactive imagination.” A small tight-lipped smile curled her lips, but there was zero humor to be glimpsed in the action.

All four girls stared at her with equal degrees of doubtful frowns etched on their brows.

It was Millicent who spoke up next. “Okay. So where were you yesterday?”

“I decided to bag a day. You know, play hooky.” Lauren shrugged on her robes, flipping her hair free from the confines of her collar. She turned sharply, her demeanor all brusque, and plucked up her bag from the floor. “So, if you don’t mind, I really don’t feel like recounting gory dreams to you lot. If we are quite done with this interrogation, I would like to go and grab some breakfast. You coming, Tracey?”

Tracey’s head snapped up at having been addressed, startlement plain as day on her heart shaped face. Surprisingly, she gave a hasty nod of assent before following Lauren out of the room, leaving behind three very confused looking girls.

They walked in silence, passing through the Common Room where small clusters of students glanced up at Lauren’s entrance. Judging by the wary looks on their faces, it hadn’t taken long for the gossip of her episode to spread throughout the serpentine House.

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were seated on the moss green leather couches that were station in front of the low burning fire in the hearth. Draco glanced up a Lauren swept past them, his ice blue eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“What happened to you, Ward?” he sneered.

Lauren halted in her tracks, causing Tracey to nearly bump into her back.

_Time to nip this in the bud before he tries to cause serious trouble with me later on…_

“That, Malfoy, is none of your business,” Lauren replied with an equal degree of frostiness to her voice.

Though Draco usually reserved his hostility for the Gryffindors - Harry in particular - she still not trust him (nor particularly like him), even though he was usually civil towards his fellow Slytherins.

This was something Lauren had noticed about the Slytherins: they protected their own. She knew that her little incident would be kept a well-guarded secret amongst them as they wouldn’t particularly want _that _circulating around the school.

But that did not mean they were above being suspicious to those of their own ilk. And, right now, it would seem that Draco was rightly suspicious of her.

Draco rose to his feet, his proud bearing noticeable as he regarded her with the haughtiness that only came with noble breeding.

“You’re not turning into a freak are you, Ward?” he drawled cruelly.

A snarky smirk, one to even rival that of the Potion Master’s, curled on Lauren’s own lips. “Yup, and you’re welcome to join the club, Blondie.”

“What did you call me?”

“Blondie. B.L.O.N.D.I.E.” Lauren huffed out impatiently. “Honestly, I don’t have time to teach you how to spell, Malfoy.”

Draco’s eyes glinted dangerously, and he reached into his robes. Lauren knew exactly what he was going for.

In a flash, she had her own wand whipped out and uttered the first incantation that came to mind: Expelliarmus.

It was absolutely surreal the feeling that overcame her in that moment. A warm, tingly rush surged through her body as her magic thrummed through her blood, infusing with her very being. Lauren embraced the euphoric sensation and willed the rush of magic to her wand.

The outcome was better than she could have ever expected. For well over a month she had been struggling to perform even the simplest spell, and now she was not only embracing magic, but channeling it quite effectively too. And powerfully by the looks of it. It was almost as though her magic had been lying dormant within her this whole time, waiting for this exact moment to rise up.

Draco’s wand was whipped violently from his hand, flying in a high arc in the air before landing on the hard, stone floor with a resounding clatter.

He glanced over at his wand and then turned his attention back to Lauren, disbelief showing plainly on his pointed face. Lauren couldn’t much blame him. Her reputation for casting spells hadn’t exactly been exemplary, so this must have been a real shocker for him.

Gemma Farley, the Slytherin Prefect, chose that exact moment to enter the Common Room. A look of complete and utter dismay shadowed her features at the sight of Lauren pointing her wand at Draco with a cold expression plastered on her face.

“What’s going on here?” Gemma asked, snapping out of her shock. She strode briskly towards them, and Lauren noted that Crabbe and Goyle took a hasty step back.

“She attacked me!” Draco whined, pointing his finger in Lauren’s direction.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “You drew your wand first, you prat.”

“What did you call me?”

“Prat. P.R.A.T,” she spelled out impatiently.

Draco spluttered in offense. “Wait until my father hears about this!”

“What’s he going to do? Beat me with his pimp stick?” Lauren shot back sarcastically.

There was a sound of a cough that sounded suspiciously like a covered-up chuckle. And, by the sounds of it, it was coming from Tracey.

“His…what?” Draco looked completely confused, and Lauren had to restrain from laughing out loud at his expression.

“That’s enough, you two. Now head down to breakfast before I start docking points,” Gemma ordered firmly, drawing herself up to her full height, which was neither tall nor impressive.

Lauren flashed Draco a cheeky grin and flounced off.

“Lauren!” Tracey called after her, causing Lauren to pause mid stride. She had completely forgotten about her constant shadow and experienced a brief pang of guilt.

Tracey caught up to her, slightly breathless from having to run.

“I can’t believe you said that to Draco!” she exclaimed with a delighted grin gracing her usually serious façade.

Lauren couldn’t help but smirk. “I think ‘pimp stick’ was completely lost on him, though.”

A girlish giggle escaped Tracey’s lips and Lauren had to wonder how an eleven-year-old could possibly know what that phrase meant. Though, Tracey was uncannily smart for her age and being half-blood, she would have knowledge of both worlds.

Not for the first time, Lauren wondered why Tracey was friends with her of all people? Tracey could be best described as serious and Wednesday Adam like. Lauren was hotheaded, whereas Tracey was contained with her emotions. They were fire and ice and, by normal standards, they shouldn’t even be friends. But, somehow, they were.

“Why are you friends with me, Tracey? I’m not a very nice person,” Lauren pointed out, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“True,” Tracey agreed in all seriousness now, “but I like you.”

Tracey’s constant and unwavering loyalty was puzzling, to say the least.

Lauren rolled her eyes at the naivety of youth but decided to drop it as they headed to the Great Hall, unwilling to admit even to herself that she had grown fond of the girl.

“So what really happened to you?” Tracey enquired as they strode along the dimly lit passageway.

Lauren sighed, knowing that the girl was referring to her breakdown the other day. “I told you – a nightmare.”

She could feel Tracey’s penetrating gaze trained on her, but true to her nature, Tracey didn’t push for an answer.

“If you ever need to talk, you know I’m here for you,” her companion spoke up softly from beside her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lauren replied, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Yearning to veer off the unwanted topic, she grabbed Tracey’s arm and all but dragged her to the Great Hall. “Come on. I’m starving.”

Entering the Great Hall, the two made their way to the Slytherin table.

Lauren wasted no time and dug into her breakfast with gusto. But halfway through her eggs, toast and sausages, she had to admit defeat. She could eat no more. Her stomach had shrunk quite noticeably over the past month of just picking at her food, and now she couldn’t even finish what was left on her plate.

Blowing out a loud breath, Lauren let her fork drop with a clatter onto her plate. “I can’t eat anymore. I’m going to bust.”

Tracey, who was sipping orange juice from her glass, glanced over at Lauren’s plate. “Honestly, I’m surprised you ate that much, though you were eating like someone possessed.”

Tracey wasn’t far from the truth. Lauren was on a mission, but first she needed to build up her strength. And that meant eating.

“Let’s just say I have a new agenda,” Lauren mumbled, turning her attention to the staff table. Her eyes locked with the dark and unreadable eyes of Severus Snape, who had obviously been watching her eat.

_And that agenda would be Severus Snape._

~oOo~

A week saw a marked improvement in Lauren’s spell casting. Even her potion brewing had vastly improved.

Snape would stroll past her station and peer into her cauldron. He made no remark or even acknowledged her, but Lauren thought she had glimpsed a small, please smile on his lips during one of their lessons before he turned away.

Lauren, to her surprise, was discovering that she was fast developing a love for the subject. There was a certain art form to brewing a potion, following the steps and waiting with anticipation for that subtle change in the softly bubbling cauldron that indicated that the brewing process had been successful. It filled her with a sense of elation, even gratification, whenever she succeeded in a particularly critical stage of the process, and now it was with a sense of pride when, at the end of the lesson, she would file along with the rest of the class and hand in her potion to Snape.

Of course, her Potions essays were always returned with blood red ink slashed across the parchment, scathing remarks scrawled in the margins in Snape’s familiar spidery handwriting.

Outwardly, these remarks would appear malicious and cruel, but Lauren knew that Snape did not do things without reason. Hidden within the harsh critiques were invaluable pointers. All she had to do was look beyond the obvious and soak up the knowledge he was imparting.

The situation between her and Snape was infinitely better. Gone was the animosity and in its place was now respect and understanding. Well, for Lauren anyway. Snape still acted like a dark and foreboding figure of authority, but she understood that he was maintaining the professional boundary of Professor and student. He had not sought her out this past week, but Lauren knew without a doubt that she could go to him any time and Snape would do whatever he could to help her. He had proven as much when he had comforted her in that lonely room, revealing a side to him that very, very few had ever witnessed. She had felt protected in his arms, and she knew that she would always be safe with him.

Each night when she lay in bed, her thoughts inadvertently drifted to the mysterious wizard, and each night she was left puzzling over how she was possibly supposed to help him.

_You are strong, Miss Ward. Stronger than you give yourself credit for._

His words echoed back to her. If Snape had confidence in her, then she would rise to the challenge and fight. She would fight for him. Because no one else would.

With that thought in mind, Lauren made her way to the gargoyle at the end of the week. She had spotted Quirrell conversing with Flitwick, the two meandering towards another part of the castle, and knew now was the perfect opportunity to seek out the Headmaster.

Upon seeing her, the gargoyle immediately leapt aside to reveal the winding staircase beyond. Lauren drew in a deep breath and, after a final glance over her shoulder, made her way up to Dumbledore’s office.

Raising her hand, Lauren knocked firmly on the wooden door and waited. The door swung open smoothly and Lauren blinked in surprise when she saw that it was Snape who had opened the door. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem shocked to see her standing on the other side. Instead he regarded her with a shrewd, indecipherable gaze.

“Ah, Miss Ward,” Dumbledore greeted cheerfully from behind the dark Potion Master. “What a pleasant surprise. Please do come in.”

Snape silently stepped aside to allow her entrance and Lauren entered the office, feeling his gaze boring into her. She had to resist the urge to shiver as her magic seemed to flare when she brushed past him. It could almost be described as an unconscious pull, almost as though her magic were trying to reach out to his.

She glanced back confusedly at Snape, but he gave no indication that he had noticed anything amiss. Lauren had to surmise that she had imagined it.

Dumbledore was seated behind his large claw footed desk, peering at her over his half-moon spectacles.

“Headmaster,” she greeted.

“Miss Ward,” he greeted back. “I take it you are here to resume our last discussion?”

Lauren gave a nod.

Dumbledore gave her a reassuring, closed-lipped smile and indicated for her to be seated in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk.

As Lauren was settling into the chair, Dumbledore turned his attention to Severus.

“Was there anything else, Severus?”

“For now, no.”

Dumbledore nodded serenely.

“But I shall remain until Miss Ward is done here and escort her back to her room.”

Dumbledore regarded Severus, his expression unreadable. If he was taken aback by the other wizard’s odd behavior, he did not show it.

“Are you in agreement, Miss Ward?” Dumbledore asked, addressing Lauren.

Lauren shrugged. “I trust Professor Snape.”

There was a stillness that permeated the room.

“Very well, then,” Dumbledore murmured in his gravelly voice, his aged hands clasped in front of him on the desk. “Now, before we begin, I have heard from the rest of the teachers that you have improved markedly in your lessons.”

Lauren speculated whether this was what he and Snape had been discussing before she had arrived.

“My magic is coming easier to me, now that I have accepted my…fate.” She said the last word with a mixture of resignation and distaste.

“That’s good to hear, my dear I must say I am very pleased, especially after the shock you suffered.”

_That’s putting it mildly, Dumbles, _she thought sarcastically.

“How are you coping?”

“As well as to be expected,” Lauren answered vaguely.

Dumbledore smiled congenially at her and leaned back in his chair, deciding to change the subject. “When I made some discreet inquiries at the Ministry regarding you personally, your name popped up in the Records section.”

Lauren frowned, not comprehending where he was going with this.

Snape swept past her and she shivered once more when her magic reacted. He settled in the chair next to hers and Lauren had to really work to stay focused on what Dumbledore was saying and ignore this strange phenomenon that was occurring.

“It would seem that you had a magical relative who passed away many, many years ago.”

Lauren’s frown deepened. “How is that even possible when I’m not even from this world?”

“Ah, that’s where the lines get a bit blurred, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t follow,” she stated.

“You do exist in this world, Miss Ward.”

“Excuse me?” Lauren exclaimed incredulously. She glanced over at Snape, who was frowning just as deeply as her.

“I happened to come across a Muggle record of you. I understand that you are using the story that you grew up in a Muggle orphanage.”

Lauren nodded.

“Well, the record I unearthed is, coincidently, that for a Muggle orphanage. In a written record, it was stated that at a few hours old you were abandoned on the doorsteps with nothing but a note stating your name and date of birth. And, I’m afraid, that is where your trail ends. There are no other records of you at that orphanage, or even in this world, except that original note.”

Lauren blinked at him. “I don’t follow. Surely if I existed in this world, even the Muggle one, there would be someone who would remember me, or I would remember growing up here…”

“A record of your birth was implanted here. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you did, indeed, exist in this world,” Snape remarked.

“Exactly,” Dumbledore agreed.

“But…but…” Lauren was at a loss for words, her confusion befuddling her senses. Finally she let out an exasperated breath. “Why implant my…my…” she floundered for the right word, her hand waving aimlessly about as she tried to express herself.

“Your origins? The dawn of your existence?” Snape supplied with his usual barbed tone.

“My origins,” Lauren said, grabbing at the first term he had offered. “Why implant my origins but add no other background. Why even do it at all?”

“I would assume that the same ancient magic used to bring you here was used to create your fake…origins,” Dumbledore stated with a twinkle in his eye as he used the word they had finally settled on. “Why, I do not know.”

Lauren was getting a splitting headache from all her scowling. Somebody went through a great deal of effort to not only bring her to the freaking world of Harry Potter, but to also create a fake identity for her in the process. It just didn’t make sense.

“Doesn’t it seem rather suspicious to you?” she asked.

“I conceded that it does,” Dumbledore agreed.

A thought struck Lauren.

“So…what does that mean? Will I have to go to this orphanage at the end of each school year and hope nobody there realizes that they have never seen me before?”

A benign smile crossed Dumbledore’s face. “That’s where the next part of my discovery comes into play. Does the name Bethany Anne Ward ring a bell?”

Lauren slowly shook her head from side to side. “No. Should it?”

“She, as it turns out, is your great grand-aunt. The relative I just told you about.”

Lauren blinked stupidly at him.

Dumbledore continued as though he didn’t notice her abject confusion. “She died without any successors and, at the time of her death, she was the last of her family with any magical blood. Every one of her relatives, even distant ones, turned out to be Muggles and consequently produced Muggle children. It seemed that the magical line died out with her. Until now.”

Dumbledore paused, gauging if she was following. Lauren was sure she was going cross-eyed at how hard she was frowning.

“In her will, Miss Bethany Ward stipulated that should a time arise that a magical relative of hers, no matter how distant, surfaced then that relative was to inherit everything. That would be you, Miss Ward.”

It felt as if all the air had left her lungs in one swoop, and Lauren was finding it very hard to breath, let alone believe what she was hearing. Finally she drew in a shuddering breath.

“That’s all very well, but don’t you think it’s a bit farfetched that I happen to be her long lost relative?”

“A simple test will be done at the Ministry to prove whether you’re a blood relative or not, Miss Ward. I plan to take you there during the Christmas holidays for the required test. Once it has been confirmed that you are a descendant of Bethany Ward’s, you will have access to the trust fund she left you. Incidentally, you have also inherited the family manor.”

Lauren’s eyes bulged. “What? I inherited a house?” she spluttered.

“That is correct.”

Lauren shook her head, clutching tightly at the armrests of her chair.

_What the blazing fuck?! First, I die and then I’m a bloody supposed orphan, and now I’m the long lost…heiress? of a witch I may not even be related to. What?...How?...How do I even process something like this? _

The silence stretched as the two wizards waited for her to say something. Lauren opened her mouth and snapped it shut several times. Finally she leaned forward and clutched her head in her hands, mulling it all over.

Finally, she lifted her gaze. “Doesn’t this sound suspicious? All too convenient? It really doesn’t add up.”

“I agree with you, Miss Ward,” Dumbledore rumbled. “That is why there will be a thorough investigation to ensure there is nothing nefarious or sinister behind all of this, though this will take months to ensure everything is safe. But I am confident, if all goes well, that you will be ready to move in by the time the Summer holidays roll around.”

Lauren nodded numbly and settled back in her chair. She hadn’t really thought about where she would go during the Summer holidays, but this at least solved that problem for her.

Then her eyes widened as a though occurred to her. “Wait! Do my parents exist here?”

Dumbledore gave her a curious look. “There has been no evidence of them. Not even names.”

“Thank goodness,” Lauren muttered. By the way Severus’ head whipped in her direction and the way he was eyeing her speculatively, he must have heard her utterance. Even Dumbledore was frowning. Lauren gave a noncommittal shrug. “They weren’t very…nice.”

“I can see where you inherited that particular trait from, then,” Severus muttered. It was Lauren’s turn to whip her head in his direction and glare at him. The corner of his mouth twitched as he returned her gaze.

“Very well,” Dumbledore intoned, choosing to ignore Snape’s taunt. “But kindly write down their names before you leave, and I’ll look further into it.”

“If I must. Just don’t force me to meet up with them if they do happen to exist in this world,” Lauren warned, turning her attention once more to the Headmaster. “And no, I’m not discussing them tonight, or any other night for that matter.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore agreed. “Now, I’m afraid that’s all the news I have. Did you have any further questions?”

Lauren shook her head. Even if she asked about some things that were still confusing her, she doubted Dumbledore would be able to clarify much more; at least not until he unearthed more information.

Her thoughts turned to the reason why she had originally wanted to seek out Dumbledore in the first place but seeing as the subject of her concerns was sitting right next to her, she knew that discussion would have to wait for another time.

Instead, she decided to enquire about something else that had been grating on her nerves for quite some time now.

“As a matter of fact, I would like you to remove whatever spell you placed on me.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore hummed amusedly. “I’m afraid I cannot.”

Lauren mentally counted to ten. It didn’t work. “As an adult speaking to another adult, I am requesting that you stop treating me like a child and remove the spell. Please,” she ground out, trying very hard not to blow up at the Headmaster.

“Once you have learned to control your temper and outbursts that fuel that colorful tongue of yours, then I shall gladly do so. Otherwise I’m afraid the young ears of my students would become rather tainted.”

Lauren snorted. “Have you even heard some of the things the older students say?”

“Indeed, I have,” Dumbledore said with an annoying smile. “And I have a feeling you would be the worst out of the whole lot.”

“Fine. I’ll figure it out on my own.” In fact, a person who could help her sprang to mind.

“I wish you luck in your endeavor, Miss Ward,” he replied politely.

Lauren rose to her feet. “There is something else I need to discuss with you.”

Dumbledore eyed her and she could see the reluctance shining through those twinkling blue eyes as he suspected what she really wanted to talk to him about.

“Perhaps another time.”

Lauren nodded stiffly and turned to leave.

“Miss Ward?”

Lauren glanced over her shoulder.

“I heard via the grapevine that you cast a well-executed Expelliarmus spell.”

Lauren’s gaze shifted to Snape, who had risen fluidly to his feet, his dark eyes boring into her.

_Where is Dumbles going with this? _she thought.

“Yes,” she said, drawing the word out reluctantly.

“Impressive,” was all the Headmaster said.

“Yes, it was,” Snape drawled, his voice darkening with danger. “As, too, were the rather questionable utterances made.”

“No offense, Professor Snape. I know Draco is your godson and all, but sometimes he can be a real prat.”

His features darkened as though a shadowy, gauzy curtain had flitted over his face. Dumbledore merely chuckled.

“I’ll see myself out,” Lauren declared, suddenly eager to get as far away from Snape as possible.

“Not. So. Fast,” he enunciated through clenched teeth, his voice deadly soft yet still commanding authority. “I said that I would escort you back to your room, did I not?”

“Um, no. That’s okay. I can find my way back just fine.”

“I insist,” he replied silkily, a cruel sneer curling his lips.

_Fuck! _Lauren’s mind screamed, imaging the various methods of torture he intended to use on her_._

Lauren shot Dumbledore a pleading look, hoping for a savior in him, but the old bastard merely chuckled at her discomfort and motioned for her to go with Snape.

Snape strode past her and opened the door, motioning for her to precede him.

“Holy mother forking shirt ball,” she muttered darkly under her breath as she passed him. “Can’t I ever catch a break?”

“Not when you intentionally seek out trouble,” Snape said, closing the door behind them before descending the spiraling stairs. As he brushed past her, Lauren shivered as the warm swirl of her magic rose to the surface once again.

“Did Draco happen to tell you that he drew his wand first. I merely defended myself,” she ground out as she followed behind him.

“Miss Ward, I really do not care about petty squabbles,” he drawled as he strode past the gargoyle.

“You don’t? Then why were you acting as though you were going to deliver my second death?” she enquired as she walked beside him, being careful to keep distance between them.

“Simply for the enjoyment of seeing you squirm,” he stated with a sardonic smirk.

Lauren gaped at him before snapping her mouth shut and glaring at him instead. “You really are the penultimate Bumblebee.” Lauren cringed. “Oh, fork this! Take this forking spell off me right now!”

Snape paused and pretended to consider it. “I really don’t see the benefit of doing so, Miss Ward.”

Lauren glared at him and said the only thing she was able to say. “You suck.”

“Twenty points from Slytherin.” His grin broadened. “And if you choose to carry on, believe me, I can be quite creative when it comes to detention.”

Lauren had no doubts about his creativity, and wisely kept her mouth shut as they made their way back down to the dungeon.

~oOo~

Soon Halloween was upon them.

“Come on, Lauren,” Tracey urged Lauren was seated by one of the tables in the Slytherin Common Room, writing out a ridiculously long essay for her Transfiguration homework. “We’re going to be late for the Halloween Feast.”

Lauren paused, her quill poised over her parchment as a memory floated to the surface of her brain.

_The Halloween Feast? Isn’t that when Quirrell causes a diversion and tries to get to the Stone? But Snape stops him, so it’s all good…But what if Snape doesn’t try because he had no prior warning?..._

Lauren bolted out of her seat and started shoving her books and homework into her bag. “You go ahead, Tracey. I’m just going to put this back in our room, and I’ll be right there.”

Tracey shot her a quizzical look, noting the unease that was rolling off Lauren in waves, but gave a nod. That’s what she liked about Tracey: she very rarely questioned Lauren.

As soon as Tracey had left the now deserted Common Room, Lauren dashed to her room and flung her bag onto her bed carelessly before racing out of the Slytherin Common Room. As she barreled through the dungeon, she prayed feverishly that Snape was still in his office and hadn’t left for the Feast yet.

She rounded the corner and careened into something solid. Something solid and black. She fell to the ground, landing hard on her ass, and stared up dazedly at the Potions Master himself, who now wore a condescending scowl.

“Why am I not surprised?” he huffed. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you watch where you are going?”

Lauren scrambled to her feet. “Lecture me another time. I need to warn you about something.”

Snape studied her for a moment, his pale features sharpening as he took in the anxious look plastered on her face.

“About what?”

Lauren glanced up and down the empty corridor, ensuring that they were indeed alone. Turning her attention once more to Severus, she blurted out, “Tonight Quirrell is going to cause a diversion at the feast. He’s going to try and get the Stone.”

Snape paled. “Are you certain.”

“Of course I am, otherwise I wouldn’t be here right now, would I,” she snapped.

He pressed his lips together to suppress from retorting with an equally scathing remark. Coming to a decision, he remarked, “Very well. I’ll see what I can do.”

Snape reached out, intent on guiding her to the Great Hall, but the moment his hand touched her shoulder, her magic flared hungrily as it tried desperately to reach out to him.

He instantly snatched his hand away as though burned. His brows knitted together as he stared at his hand, rubbing his thumb and index finger together.

_He feels it too…_

“What just happened?” Lauren asked.

Her voice seemed to snap him out of his contemplation. Dropping his hand to his side, Snape met her enquiring gaze, his eyes a shade darker than normal. “Nothing important. Now let’s get to the feast before we’re late.”

Lauren reluctantly followed him, knowing full well that he was purposely omitting telling her what had just happened. He had no intentions of being forthcoming with her, this much was obvious.

When they reach the open doors of the Great Hall, Snape motioned with a long-fingered hand for her to precede him. Lauren noted that he was being extra cautious to ensure they didn’t touch again.

Still feeling confused, she entered the Hall. Lauren stilled, stunned at the grandeur sight before her. Jack ‘o lanterns floated above the sea of students seated at the tables, the enchanted ceiling reflecting a clear night sky sprinkled with glowing silvery stars. Hundreds of bats swooped overhead in a swirling cloud, their leathery wings flapping rhythmically and blending in with the voices of excitedly chatting students.

The tables were laden with a variety of mouth-watering dishes and Lauren hurriedly made her way to her House table, her stomach growling as the delicious scents wafted all around her.

She settled next to Tracey and dished up jacket potatoes smothered in sour cream and chives, some hickory ribs, and a generous helping of corn and carrots.

She glanced up as she ate, noting that Snape was barely touching his food, but was rather analyzing his surroundings with a suspicious eye.

Just then Quirrell came sprinting into the Great Hall, his turban askew and terror writ all over his face.

“Troll!” he cried. “In the dungeon.” Quirrell paused and added in a faint tone, “Thought you ought to know.” With that he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

A heavy pause followed his news and then utter chaos erupted like a heavy rain cloud bursting. Students rose to their feet in a panic, their screams and shouts now reverberating throughout the room in a deafening din.

Dumbledore rose to his feet and shouted; his voice magically amplified as he commanded everyone’s attention.

“Quiet!”

The room instantly stilled.

Dumbledore drew in a breath and continued more calmly. “Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

The Prefects wasted no time in ushering each of their houses from the Great Hall.

Lauren followed the rest of her House, glancing back over her shoulder only to see that Snape was noticeably absent, having disappeared like a fleeting shadow.

Suddenly a cold hand curled around her wrist. Lauren glanced up and froze at the sight of Quirrell peering down at her.

“Miss Ward could y…y…you p…p…please come with me,” he stuttered.

_Oh shit! What does he want? _Lauren’s insides froze as realization hit her. _He’s not after the Stone…. He’s after me! Fuck!_

Lauren swallowed thickly and gave a single nod. A pleased smile graced his face and Quirrell released her wrist, turning his back on her.

He was so confident that she would follow him that he didn’t even glance back. Lauren chose that moment to run in the other direction, ducking low so that she would get lost in the crowd of her fellow Slytherins, her heart hammering loudly in her chest.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This was not supposed happen._

When the Slytherins reached the dungeons, Lauren hung back. Making a split-second decision, she dashed towards the Potion’s classroom.

Yanking the door open, she entered, closing it firmly behind her with an audible click.

Lauren wasted no time and immediately made her way to Snape’s office door, praying that it wasn’t locked. She didn’t know what she would do if it was.

As soon as her hand curled around the door handle, the warm and familiar sensation of Snape’s magic washed over her. Then the door clicked open, much to Lauren’s surprise. She hesitated but, coming to a decision, slunk inside, making doubly sure to shut the door behind her.

The low fire was burning in the hearth and the lamps were lit. Lauren took a steadying breath to calm her nerves and sank into one of the chairs as she waited for Severus to return, her mind reeling at what just happened.

_Why hadn’t Quirrell gone after the Stone like he was supposed to? Why did he choose to try and get me instead? And what does he want with me anyway?_

These questions looped through her mind like a broken record and after an hour, she still had no answers.

Suddenly the door banged opened and Lauren yelped, jumping to her feet.

Snape stood tall and imposing in the doorway, staring at her with a dark scowl etched on his pale face.

“How did you get in my office?!” he snapped. “I had it warded.”

Lauren fidgeted nervously. “I, uh, touched the door handle and it clicked open.”

His frown deepened. “That’s impossible.”

“Maybe you forgot to ward it.”

“I never forget to ward my doors, Miss Ward,” he hissed.

“Well then, I have no other explanation. I touched the handle, I felt your magic, and then the door opened for me.”

Snape froze instantly at her words, just as he had a few weeks prior.

Lauren’s gaze dropped and she froze at the sight of his torn pants, blood dripping from the vicious looking bite.

“You’re hurt!”

Snape snapped out of his stupor and glanced down at his leg before adjusting his cloak to hide the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

Lauren arched a brow. “A bite from Fluffy isn’t what I would call nothing.”

Snape snorted and shut the door behind him before limping over to his cabinet, pulling a bottle of Firewhisky from the shelf. “Who the hell names a beast like that Fluffy?” he muttered, more to himself than her.

“Hagrid.”

“Indeed,” he remarked dryly as he limped over to his desk and poured himself a glass.

Without offering her any (not that she expected him to), Snape slumped heavily into his chair and downed the golden liquid in one go.

“Shouldn’t you have your leg looked at?” Lauren asked as she settled back in her chair.

He waved his hand dismissively. “I have dealt with far worse injuries before. I can heal this myself.”

Lauren stilled at the meaning of his words, sensing that he was vaguely referring to the torture he had suffered during the first war.

“There was no sign of Quirrell,” he remarked as he refilled his glass. His gaze snapped up to give her an accusing look before he gulped that glass down too.

“Yeah,” she said, drawing the words out guiltily. This caused Snape’s eyes to narrow. “He _was_ supposed to go after the Stone. But it seems like he was more interested in getting his hands on me instead. Sorry about that.”

Snape stilled, the seconds ticking by as he stared at her with a stunned expression. “He went after you instead?”

Lauren gave a nod.

“How did you get away?”

“I agreed to go with him and as soon as his back was turned, I high-tailed it out of there.”

Snape placed his tumbler on the desk with a _thud_ and rose stiffly to his feet.

“I’ll take you back to your room.”

“But -.”

“I need to speak to the Headmaster immediately,” Snape snapped. “For once cease being your usual annoying self and do what I tell you.”

Lauren drew in a deep breath and exhaled before rising to her feet, inwardly fuming that he was getting snippy with her. “Fine. But don’t expect me to help you walk there.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he shot back with his usual abrasiveness.

The walk back to the Slytherin dormitory was slightly longer than usual as Snape limped beside her, but he refused to show any outward signs of pain.

When they reached the doors, Lauren turned to him, noting that this was becoming their usual custom.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked concernedly.

“I shall live, Miss Ward,” he drawled, looking for all the world disinterested, but Lauren wasn’t fooled.

“Just…be careful,” she stated, cracking the door open.

“Your concern is touching,” was his sarcastic reply. “Now get inside,” he snapped.

“Well someone has to care about you. Might as well be me.”

With that parting remark, Lauren slipped inside and closed the door behind her, missing the indecipherable look that washed over the Professor’s face.


	12. Chapter 12

October gave way to November, the temperature dropping noticeably as the weeks progressed. Frost blanketed the grounds in the early mornings, and a chill now permeated the stone walls of the castle, indicating that Winter would soon be upon them, unforgiving and harsh.

Draco Malfoy was now intent on shooting venomous glares in her direction, and Lauren had to surmise that someone had filled him in on what a ‘pimp stick’ was, though that didn’t bother her in the slightest. Every time she glimpsed one of his scowls, she would smile brightly at him and wiggle her fingers in playful greeting. This was usually followed by a singsong greeting of, “Hello, Blondie.”

Lauren knew she shouldn’t be baiting him like this, but she just couldn’t resist doing so. Draco made it far too easy for her. If she was going to have to redo school all over again, she might as well have some fun doing so. And Draco was proving to be the perfect entertainment.

Quirrell, Lauren noticed, was now employing a new tactic when it came to her: ignoring her completely. By now it must have been obvious that she was highly suspicious of him and that she would not be fooled into following him naively, not now or ever. But Lauren was no fool, and knew it was only a matter of time before he struck again. It was only a question of when.

Even Snape was being blatantly obvious in his distrust of the Professor; well, obvious for him at any rate. During mealtimes, Lauren would catch the Half-Blood Prince shooting dark glowers in Quirrell’s direction, who had the misfortune of being partnered right next to him. Quirrell valiantly kept his head down and tried to ignore Severus, but there was no denying there was a nervous tremor to his hands as he ate. Under different circumstances, Lauren would have felt sorry for him, for Snape could be downright terrifying when he put his mind to it.

But all she experienced when she viewed Quirrell was complete and utter loathing.

_The foul git tried to get his hands on me. Fuck only knows what he would have done is he had succeeded._

Lauren shuddered at the thought, but she still had no real answer as to why Quirrell had tried to snatch her instead of the Philosopher’s Stone. It was puzzling her to no end.

But she had no real way of obtaining the answer. Lauren didn’t want to risk walking the shadow-filled corridors at night to seek Dumbledore out in his office. Knowing her luck, that was when Quirrell would decide to strike. She was well aware that she all but a puny eleven-year-old with very limited knowledge of magical spells in her arsenal; spells that would be entirely ineffective against a fully matured wizard, who could no doubt incapacitate her with a single flick of his wand.

That left her with only one option.

A few days later, Snape handed them back their graded essays, each sporting vicious red slashes through the parchment and no doubt riddled with scathing corrections.

Lauren snatched hers up as soon as it landed on her desk in front of her and scanned the bottom of the parchment, where she had written ‘I need to talk to you’. In response, Snape had scrawled the words, ‘See me after class’.

Lauren released the breath she had been holding and folded her essay in half before shoving it into her bag, not bothering to look at what mark she had received. She then focused on the ensuing lesson, becoming engrossed in brewing the potion Snape had instructed them to create.

Predictably, Neville managed to disrupt the class halfway through the lesson. His cauldron gave a mighty belch, which was soon followed by billowing, thick and suffocating clouds of rancid black smoke that engulfed the entire classroom.

Snape cleared the mess, as well as the air, with a flick of his wand before unleashing a verbal tirade on the visibly trembling boy - much to the amusement of the Slytherins, once they had recovered from their coughing fits. Lauren ignored them all and continued to work on her potion, which had now swirled into an intoxicating candy floss pink, indication that she had successfully brewed her potion.

Snape swept past her station; his mood mercurial if his scowl was anything to go by. He paused and peered briefly into her cauldron. His gaze flickered up to hers and she thought she glimpsed a pleased glint enter his dark eyes before he turned away abruptly without praising her. Not that he ever did. That was not his way. At least, not with her.

The bell rang shrilly, indicating that the lesson had come to an end, and Lauren waited for the students to file out of the classroom. Tracey waited by the door for her, but Lauren waved her off.

“You go ahead. Professor Snape wanted to speak to me about my essay,” she explained.

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“Nah. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be.”

Tracey gave a single nod and left without another word. No sooner had she exited the room than the door slammed shut behind her, causing Lauren the jump as the sound echoed loudly around the room.

She startled once more when she turned around and found the dark silhouette of Snape standing on the other side of her desk, his arms folded in front of him as he stared at her through the curtain of his raven hair.

“You wanted to speak to me, Miss Ward. Now is the time to speak,” he enunciated, his tone deathly soft yet carrying through the room.

Lauren tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, steeling her nerves. “Did you speak to Dumbledore? You said you were going to when last we spoke…”

“What did you imagine I was doing when I explicitly stated that was my intention?” he asked with patronization ringing clearly in his voice.

“I don’t know. Maybe you were chatting about the weather while sipping over a nice cup of tea,” Lauren shot back.

Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously. “You had better have a good reason for requesting an audience with me, Miss Ward.”

“Well, I was getting to that when you decided to get all snippy with me.”

“My patience is wearing thin…”

“What? You actually have patience?”

“Miss Ward, get to the point. Now!” he warned, and Lauren knew she was now veering dangerously close to Snape’s limitation. He looked as though he was envisioning wrapping his long-fingered hand around her throat and throttling the very life out of her.

“Can’t even have a bit of fun with you,” she muttered before clearing her throat. Hastily she continued. “So I take it that Dumbledore is now aware of Quirrell and his intentions.”

“He is,” Snape replied, albeit guardedly.

“Is Dumbledore planning on doing anything about it?”

Snape’s prolonged silence was answer enough. “He has requested that I keep an eye on him.”

“Is that all?” Lauren huffed in frustration. The old fool was still intent on using the safeguards put in place to protect the Stone as a means to test Harry. Oh yes, there was no doubt in her mind that these were really a way to put the Boy-Who-Lived through his paces and prepare him for the future.

But wasn’t Dumbledore not the least bit concerned that Quirrell had now developed an unhealthy interest in her?

“I need to speak with him.”

“Then, by all means, go an speak to him,” Snape stated coolly.

“Well, I don’t really fancy wandering alone at night where Quirrell can snatch me at any moment. By the way, does Dumbledore have any theories as to why Turban head wants me?”

“Professor Quirrell,” Snape corrected, though Lauren discerned the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “And no, the Headmaster didn’t deign to impart any of his theories onto me.”

“Did he _even _tell you anything?” Lauren asked, already knowing the answer.

Snape’s nostrils flared. “Only that I should watch out for you.”

Lauren grimaced. “Well, that sucks - he just made you my babysitter.”

“And you, Miss Ward, are proving to be the bane of my existence. I have more important things to do than listen to your mindless babble.”

“But I really need to talk to -.”

Snape held up his hand, the cuff of his sleeve which covered almost half his palm barely shifting. “I will inform the Headmaster that you wish to speak with him. I cannot guarantee that he will oblige. Now, I have had quite enough of you. Leave now or I’ll forcibly remove you myself.”

Lauren glanced nervously over her shoulder at the door and then turned her attention back to Snape. “What about Quirrell?”

A cruel sneer twisted his lips. “Are you afraid?”

“Of course I’m afraid – I’m not stupid.” She ignored the disbelieving snort that sounded from Snape. “There’s no way in hell I would stand a chance against a well-seasoned wizard.”

Snape sighed impatiently and strode past her, careful to ensure that they didn’t accidently touch. He halted at the door, his hand curled around the handle, and motioned with his head for her to follow him.

Lauren did so, her curiosity getting the better of her, and frowned when he halted a little further down the corridor. He was now standing in front of a portrait of a portly, red nosed wizard sporting an impressively bushy ginger mustache.

“Albertus, can you please tell me whether Professor Quirrell is still in his classroom?”

The portrait let out a sleepy yawn, stretching as he did so. His movements caused his vibrant red vest to stretch taut over his bulging belly. He relaxed and lazily smacked his lips together.

“Waddya say, Pr’fessor?” he slurred. It was then that Lauren spied the tipped over wine jug in the corner of his portrait.

_Not fair. The portraits are allowed to get drunk, but I’m not!_

“Can you tell me whether Professor Quirrell is still in his classroom,” Snape repeated. He never raised his voice, but suddenly his tone was unnervingly ominous.

Albertus was instantly alert and gave a hasty nod, his double chin wobbling with the movement, and scurried out of his frame.

Severus waited patiently; his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the now empty frame. Lauren peered up at him, marveling at the intense concentration writ on his features.

Suddenly a thought struck her.

“Is that how you found me?”

Snape slowly turned his head to regard her, his black eyes glinting like hard obsidian as he waited for her to elaborate.

“The day my memory came back to me. I always wondered how you found me. It was the portraits that pointed you in the right direction, wasn’t it?”

“That is correct.”

Lauren thought about it. “So the portraits basically spy on the students. Isn’t that…unethical?”

Snape smirked, but Albertus chose that moment to reappear in his frame, his cheeks flushed red and his beefy face sweaty.

“Yes, he is in his classroom, Professor.”

Snape gave a curt nod and, without thanking Albertus, turned his attention once more to Lauren. “There’s your answer. Now go, or did you wish to annoy me even further with your annoying questions?”

“Well…”

His eyes narrowed into slits.

“Fine. Fine. I’m going,” Lauren huffed, but paused mid turn, another question coming to her. Glancing back at Snape, she asked, “Are you ever going to tell me why my magic keeps trying to reach out to you whenever we get too close.”

Snape went as still as a statue, a guarded mask falling into place. “That,” he replied snidely, “is none of your concern.”

“Technically it is. It’s _my _magic reacting this way, and I want to know why.”

“Miss Ward, leave now or else I will give you detention!”

“I thought you didn’t want to suffer being in my presence any more than you had to,” she pointed out. “Now tell me what’s going on.” She belligerently crossed her arms over her chest and stood rooted to the spot. She had no intentions of leaving until she had an answer. Dead or alive. Preferably alive, but one never knew when it came to Snape.

It was then that Snape snapped. Before she could blink, he grabbed her by her upper arm and propelled her into the Potion’s classroom. He never released his hold on her as he slammed door behind them and rounded on her, his face pitted with fury.

Lauren gasped, both from the combination of the shock of his actions, as well as her magic flaring up between them. She knew he had felt it too when he stiffened visibly.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, Snape glared down at her, but she could tell that her magic had distracted him from his anger and was, strangely enough, even calming him.

“You wish to know the answer?” he hissed, his face inches from hers.

A slight tremble coursed through her body. “Yes.” She would not back down. Not from this.

Snape closed his eyes tightly and slowly uncurled his fingers from her arm with great effort. Then he straightened abruptly and stormed over to his desk, Lauren all the while watching him with confusion. He clutched tightly at the edge of his desk and she heard him inhale deeply as he fought to regain his composure.

With stiff movements, he rounded his desk and settled into his chair. Lauren couldn’t help but notice that the desk now acted as a solid barrier between them, something he must have intended.

Snape regarded her; his eyes akin to charred coal. His jaw was clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching ever so slightly. Her eyes flickered down to his hands and she saw that he was clutching the armrest so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

“Your magic calls to mine, and mine to yours,” he said after a few painful moments of silence had passed. “It was not noticeable before due to my Occlumency shields and your…averseness to accepting your magic. Once you broke through that barrier and embraced your magic, the magic inside you was awoken and the…_pull_ was more noticeable then, especially for you.” His deep rich voice carried through the room.

“So what does that mean?” she asked as she cautiously made her way over to his desk, halting before it. “That our magic…calls to each other?”

Snape sneered. “It does not mean we are some nonsensical fairytale story about soul mates, destined to be together - so get that silly notion out of your head right now!”

Lauren screwed up her face. “Nope. I wasn’t even going to go there. I don’t believe in any of that nonsense anyway.”

It was odd. Lauren trusted Snape and respected him even, and she liked him well enough - when he wasn’t being an ass. But love him? No, she most certainly didn’t harbor any romantic feelings towards the ever-scowling Professor.

_Though, I still have to go through puberty again, so there’s always a possibility…_Lauren repressed a shudder at the thought.

“Good,” he stated disdainfully, though Lauren did note that he relaxed visibly at her proclamation. He drew in another deep breath before continuing, his voice much calmer than before, though still strained. “It is rare for one’s magic to call to another’s, but not completely unheard of.” Snape paused, choosing his next words carefully. “It essentially means that your magic will work well with mine.”

“Meaning?”

“Should we ever combine our magic then, in theory, it would be more powerful.”

Lauren frowned and then abruptly went to retrieve a chair from one of the workstations. She dragged it over to the front of his desk and plonked down on it.

“I could have conjured a chair for you, Miss Ward,” he drawled.

“You could have, but I don’t think you would have, even if I had asked nicely.”

His usual sardonic smirk found its way to his lips, a clear indication to Lauren that he indeed would not have done so. Snape, it seemed, enjoyed riling her up as much as she enjoyed riling him up.

“So when you mean combine…” she pressed, leaning forward eagerly in her chair, her elbows digging into her knees as she clasped her hands in front of her.

Snape stood in a fluid motion of black and rounded the desk. Lauren eyed him wearily as he approached her, slipping his wand from the sleeve of his robe.

“Stand,” he instructed.

Lauren did as she was told, but not without trepidation.

Snape eyed her; reluctance etched plainly on his face. “Take my hand.”

Lauren hesitated, but then reached for his free hand.

“My hand that is holding my wand, Miss Ward,” he snapped impatiently.

“Well, be more specific next time,” she bit back, but placed her much smaller hand over his. She was now standing in front of him, uncomfortably aware of their close proximity.

Instantly her magic flared like the rays of the sun filtering through the canopy of a forest; warm and bright as it brushed along their flesh, sending tingling electrical currents wherever it touched.

Lauren felt Snape shiver behind her, but when he spoke, his words were carefully controlled.

“Concentrate on it,” he murmured.

_How? _Lauren felt as though she were being consumed with indescribable sensations.

“I’m now going to call up my magic,” he murmured. “Together we will cast a simple spell. You will soon witness the effects of what combined magic can do.”

“Have you ever done this before?” she whispered.

“No. But then again my magic has never been compatible with anyone else’s before.”

“Not even…” Lauren stopped short of mentioning Lily’s name.

Snape instantly went rigid behind her.

“No,” he said with finality, the word hanging heavy in the air.

“Okay, so how do you know all of this?”

“I read about it a long time ago. Now will you shut up! The sooner I show you, the sooner I can get you out of here.”

“Fine,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes even though Snape could not see it.

The moment Snape called forth his magic, Lauren felt it. Oh, how she felt it. The air around them seemed to vibrate as their magic came together like two flames of the same fire uniting to create a blazing inferno. This raging inferno coursed through their bodies, flowing through their veins like a torrential river, raw and exhilarating, and powerful.

Lauren let out a gasp, unnerved by the sheer intensity of the moment.

“Do not let go of my hand,” Snape instructed through gritted teeth.

Lauren wondered how he was able to concentrate, let alone stand. She felt as though she were going to crumble under the sheer force of their combined magic.

With a flick of his wrist, Snape muttered the simple _Wingardium Leviosa_ spell.

Lauren’s eyes widened like saucers when all the chairs in the classroom suddenly rose up, levitating in the air. Each and every single one of them.

_That’s…that’s a lot of power…And that was just a simple spell. Imagine what we could do with a more formidable one…_

The implication of what was happening hit her and Lauren snatched her hand away, as though burned, and hastily backed away from him. Suddenly, she felt very, very afraid.

The chairs clattered to the floor with a resounding clash when their contact was severed.

Snape lowered his wand and slowly turned to face her. His expression was unreadable, though his black eyes swirled with the fading remnants of magic, making them seem like burning embers of coal.

_If Voldemort ever finds out about this…He will either try to use us as a weapon or kill us because we are a threat._

Lauren swallowed hard at the thought.

“Miss Ward?”

Lauren’s head snapped up to see Snape peering down at her with a hint of confusion, as well as concern.

“No one can ever find out about this,” she warned, cradling her hand that had held his in her other hand. Snape’s frown deepened at her warning. “Will you be able to hide this memory with Occlumency?”

Snape regarded her, trying to decipher her cryptic meaning, but finally he gave a single nod.

“Good,” Lauren breathed out and ran her hand through her hair. If Snape said he could hide it, then she knew he damn well could. But they couldn’t very well carry on like this, their magic reacting like _this_ whenever they so much as brushed up against each other.

“How do I control this?” she asked agitatedly.

“Care to tell me about your sudden fear?”

“Best not to. I don’t want to risk revealing anything,” she muttered. She was deliberately avoiding looking at him, scared Snape would choose this moment to skim through her thoughts and see why she was truly afraid of this magical bond.

Snape contemplated her request and then, without a word, he strode to his office door and yanked it open before stepping inside. He returned shortly with a leather-bound book clutched in his hand and wordlessly handed it to her.

“What’s this?” Lauren asked.

“Theory of Occlumency. Read it thoroughly, Miss Ward and apply what you have absorbed from its teachings.”

“But Occlumency is…a mental shielding of sorts, isn’t it? How is this supposed to control my magic?”

“By applying the mental exercises outlined in this book, it should teach you to focus and, in turn, apply that same focus in controlling and containing your magic.”

“Easy peasy, right?” Lauren stated with skepticism, but tucked the book securely under her arm, feeling much calmer than before.

“If you’re not a complete dunderhead.”

Lauren rolled her eyes and turned to leave.

“And Miss Ward…”

Lauren glanced over her shoulder.

“If you should damage or mangle my book in any shape or form…let’s just say that I shall not be very pleased.”

“Duly noted,” Lauren remarked and exited the room, eager to get away.

She did not notice that Snape was eyeing her thoughtfully, his frown becoming more pronounced as the minutes ticked by.

~oOo~

The following week saw Lauren becoming engrossed in the book Snape had loaned her as she pored over it each night in bed. Basic forms of Occlumency, she was learning, was closing the mind off from an attack from a Legilimens by emptying it and shutting down all emotions. The more advanced form of Occlumency was the ability to suppress thoughts and emotions and create a false layer of surface thoughts to throw off a Legilimens, whilst keeping the true thoughts or memories hidden below the surface, safely protected by the faux memories. A great deal of willpower and emotional discipline was involved – the very traits that Severus Snape possessed, and which made him such an accomplished Occlumens.

Lauren took note of the mental exercises outlined in the book, knowing Snape would not have recommended this if he hadn’t thought it would beneficial for her. She practiced each night clearing her mind before she drifted off to sleep, hoping that this would help control her magic when she was around Snape.

Though, in the back of her mind, Lauren had to wonder if there was more to this ‘bond’ than Snape was letting one. It _felt _more complicated than the explanation he had given her, but this was the best answer she was going to get from him. For now.

The first Quidditch match of the year rolled around, and Lauren went for the sake of seeing what all the hype was about. She was not a sports fanatic, finding it held little interest for her. But there was something intriguing about watching the players zoom around on their brooms, brain beaters - commonly known as Bludgers - shooting through the air, intent on knocking any player in their path out. It was a fast paced and thrilling, but Lauren knew this was not something she would ever get fanatical about.

As the match progressed, Harry’s broom started bucking and jerking wildly. Lauren’s gaze swept over to the stands where the teachers were seated, but she was too far away to really make anything out. All she could discern was the bright turban that represented Quirrell and the contrasting inky black curtain of hair that indicated that Snape was sitting close by, probably countering Quirrell’s jinxes at this very moment.

Lauren knew what was coming but had to force herself to remain seated as the next few moments played out as they were supposed to.

A span of minutes passed, Harry’s broom still jerking and twisting in the air like a bucking horse, the boy holding on for dear life.

Suddenly a commotion erupted in the teacher’s stand, Snape shooting straight to his feet. Lauren guessed that Hermione Granger had just set his robes on fire.

_Oh boy. He’s going to be some pissed about that! _she thought, making a mental note to avoid him for the next week or so. Snape in a foul mood did not bode well for anyone who crossed his path.

The following week as she entered the Great Hall for lunch, Lauren’s gaze landed on Draco, who was sitting at the Slytherin table with his two meathead cronies.

“I need to have a word with Draco, Tracey,” she said, turning to her friend.

Tracey shot her a bewildered look that quickly morphed into suspicion. “Lauren, you’re not planning on riling him up, are you? It’s one thing to stand up to his bullying, it’s another to intentionally goad him.”

Lauren smirked. “But he makes it so easy.”

“Lauren,” Tracey warned.

Lauren sighed defeatedly. “No, I’m not going to ‘goad’ him, as you so aptly put it. Though, if the opportunity presents itself, I can’t make any promises that I won’t rise to the challenge.”

Tracey’s eyes narrowed. She looked ready to drag Lauren in the opposite direction of Draco Malfoy.

Lauren held up her hands placatingly, but the mischievous grin planted on her face didn’t help her case. “I’m just going to talk to him. Honestly. I need to ask him something.”

“Ask him what?”

“Something,” Lauren batted her eyes. Tracey didn’t look fooled.

“Even if I tell you it’s a bad idea, you’re still going to do it?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her left foot against the stone floor.

“Yup.”

Tracey sighed and shook her head.

Lauren nudged her playfully in the ribs with her elbow. “Come on. If anything, it’ll be entertaining.”

The slow smile that crept on Tracey’s face let Lauren know that she had won this round.

Lauren’s grin broadened. “’Atta girl. You know, I think my bad habits are rubbing off on you,” she stated as they made their way to their table.

Tracey shrugged. “Maybe, but I’ve got you doing your homework now, so I think some of my good habits have rubbed off on you as well.”

Lauren blinked as she realized that Tracey was indeed right. They dedicated their afternoons to finishing their schoolwork, and she realized that Tracey’s studious nature was certainly rubbing off on her. If only she had had a friend like before, Lauren’s old life might have turned out differently.

When they reached the Slytherin table, Lauren promptly plonked herself down next to Draco. His platinum white head instantly whipped in her direction, a condescending sneer twisting his deceivingly angelic features.

“Hello, Draco,” she greeted with a sickly-sweet smile.

“What do you want, Ward?” he asked suspiciously.

Her eyes briefly flickered to the staff table and was unsurprised to find Snape watching them intently, his dark eyes boring into her, as though he were silently asking her what the hell she was doing.

Ignoring him, Lauren turned to Draco, cradling her cheek in the palm of her hand as she spoke. “I want to make a proposition.”

“A proposition?”

“Yeah, you know. It means to make a suggestion, or offer a deal…”

“I know what a proposition is,” he spat.

Lauren perked up. “Oh, good. It was bad enough that I had to teach you how to spell. Explaining the definitions of words would have been tedious…”

Draco’s baby blues were spitting daggers at her. “What. Do. You. Want?” he hissed angrily, enunciating each word. Lauren was taken aback of how reminiscent he was of Snape in this very moment.

Lauren decided to get straight to the point. “It’s common knowledge that you are a bit of a prat, Malfoy.”

His hands clenched into fists around his knife and fork. Lauren hastily held up her hand and continued.

“And, as a prat, you must have an arsenal of foul words at your disposal - something I’m sure that your parents would be opposed to.”

“What is your point?” he asked, dropping his knife and fork with a clatter onto his plate, almost as though he had suddenly lost his appetite.

“Did they ever place a spell on you to stop you from swearing?”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. And then comprehension dawned on him. He let out a cruel and delighted laugh.

“Is that what happened to you? Someone put a spell on you to stop you from swearing.”

“Yup,” she stated, seemingly unfazed. “And I want you to give me the spell to counter it.”

The humor faded from his face. “And why would I do that?”

Lauren sighed and straightened up. “I’m not your enemy, Draco. He is,” she said, nudging her head in the direction of Harry Potter, who was seated with Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. She didn’t particularly like what she was doing, but she needed Draco to refocus his loathing back towards Potter.

Draco eyed his nemesis spitefully, before turning his attention back to her. “That’s not reason enough.”

Lauren leaned in, causing Draco to lean away from her. “I’m not afraid to play dirty, Draco, especially when I want something. I was hoping to avoid blackmail – um, I mean, persuading you forcibly, but you have given me no choice. You give me that counter spell and I’ll stop calling you Blondie; a nickname I’m sure you don’t want getting around the whole school.”

She ignored the cracking knuckles of the two dunderheads opposite them as she peered intently at Draco, letting him see that she was deadly serious. He remained utterly still as he studied her, hatred burning in his eyes.

“And,” she continued, almost sounding regretful “I will lay off goading you and will even be civil towards you. We are, after all, supposed to be united as Slytherins. Focus your hatred on Harry Potter instead and stay out of my way, and I, in turn, will leave you alone.”

Seconds ticked by. “And no more calling me Blondie?”

Lauren inwardly sighed a sigh of relief. “It pains me, but yes, I’ll lay off calling you Blondie. If,” she held up her hand, “and only if, the spell works.”

Draco contemplated her, shrewdness alighting his features. Almost a full minute ticked by before he answered her.

Finite,” he said in a low voice.

“Pardon?”

Draco’s head snapped up. “The spell is ‘Finite’.”

Lauren chewed the inside of her cheek. She recalled vaguely reading about Professor Lupin using that counter spell on Neville, so there was nothing really dangerous about it. But there was only one way to find out.

She slowly withdrew her wand from the pocket of her robes, Draco watching her warily the whole time.

Pointing the wand at herself, Lauren concentrated and murmured the spell. Nothing happened. She had half expected the heavens to part and a high-pitched chorus of _Hallelujah _to be sung. Nada. Zilch.

“Try it,” Draco sneered.

Lauren gave a little cough and decided to use a phrase she had always wanted to call him.

“I take it back, Draco. You’re not a prat.” His eyes widened and then simultaneously narrowed when she finished her sentence. “You’re a fucking dickwad!”

A very unlady-like snort sounded from Tracey, who was seated not too far away.

Draco glared at Lauren, which only caused her grin to notch up to mage watt voltage. “Sorry, I was just testing it out.” Lauren rose to her feet, suddenly feeling as though she were walking on clouds of euphoria. She extended her hand towards Draco. “Thank you, Draco. As a wo…girl of my word, I’ll stick to my promise. I’ll leave you alone.”

He reluctantly took her hand and they shook on it. It did not go unnoticed by her that as soon as he had released her hand, he wiped his own against his robe.

“Unless you start it, then the truce is off,” she warned.

Draco regarded her and then gave a single nod of understanding. Lauren stared at him for a moment before speaking again. “And I mean it, Draco - I’m not your enemy.”

He frowned at her words, but she had already turned away and went to sit over by Tracey, who was grinning widely at her.

“That was amazing,” she enthused.

Lauren patted her head. “Calm down, little sprite.” But she couldn’t help grinning along with Tracey before she let out a yawn.

A thoughtful look swooped over Tracey’s features. “Did you have another nightmare last night?”

Lauren stilled, recalling the chilling memory that had weaved its way into her dreams, as it was apt to do most nights. She would often wake in a clammy sweat, her heart pounding painfully in her ribcage.

“Yeah,” she admitted softly.

Tracey nodded. “I heard you cry out.”

Lauren eyed her wearily, wondering if she was going to grill her about what had happened.

Suddenly a shadow fell over her, saving her from any further interrogation. The way her magic flared forewarned her of who was standing behind her.

Lauren took in a steadying breath and used what little she had learned about Occlumency to will her magic back down. It was harder than she thought, but finally her magic yielded and receded.

She turned in her chair and peered up at Snape through her lashes.

“A word if you please, Miss Ward,” he demanded, his voice deathly soft.

“But I haven’t finished lunch,” she protested.

He quirked a brow, somehow making that simple gesture menacing. Lauren sighed and rose from her bench, grabbing her bag.

“See you later,” she mouthed to Tracey, who gave her a sympathetic look in return.

She followed behind Snape as he exited the Great Hall and made his way down a deserted corridor.

“What were you talking to Draco about?” he enquired as she caught up to him.

“Homework,” she replied innocently.

Snape halted at her lie and instantly rounded on her. Lauren concentrated with all her might on making her mind blank. It must have worked for Snape straightened up, peering down his nose at her.

“You’ve been practicing.”

She gave a nod, trying to keep her mind devoid of all emotions. Which was hard when he was standing so close, formidable as ever.

In a flash, his hand shot out and clutched tightly at her shoulder, his fingers digging into her flesh. Lauren was unprepared for the physical attack and her magic flared as her mental shields crumbled.

She shut her eyes and concentrated on evening out her breathing and calming down. She felt her magic slowly recede and she finally opened her eyes.

Snape was watching her and when her eyes met his, he let his hand drop. “Better than what I expected, though you need more practice.”

Lauren let out a shaky breath. “That’s something I’ve been thinking about…Would you be willing to teach me Occlumency?”

He eyed her for several seconds, reluctance plainly writ on his features. “I’ll think about it. Now what were you talking to Draco about? The truth this time.”

“I promised to back off as long as he did as well.”

“Is that all?” he asked slowly, clearly not believing her.

Lauren knew she was no match for Snape, and he would break through her mental barriers in a split second if she continued to evade his questions.

“I may have also asked him some information in exchange for me not calling him Blondie anymore.”

Snape’s nostrils flared as he glared down his nose at her.

“You blackmailed him?”

“No, not blackmail. I just persuaded him to give me information in exchange for laying off him.”

“That’s blackmail.”

Lauren shrugged. “You call it one thing; I call it another.”

Snape crossed his arms in front of him, his patience noticeably wearing thin. “And what information did you coerce from him?”

Lauren had hoped he wouldn’t ask. “I…may have asked him for the counter spell…for the one that Dumbledore put on me.”

Snape was silent for a moment. “I see.” His words were drawn out, constrained. Lauren knew then that she was in trouble. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

Lauren sighed. “Look, we’ve come to an understanding. I’ll leave him alone if he leaves me alone. Call it a truce if you will.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as though he had a headache. “I should give you detention.”

“But you don’t want to because, in your words, you would be forced to be in my presence longer than you have to,” she pointed out.

Snape glared at her.

Several seconds ticked by, Lauren preparing to make a run for it.

His next question threw her completely off guard, though. “Are you still having trouble sleeping.” This was not phrased as a question, and Lauren guessed that Snape had overheard her and Tracey’s conversation.

“Some nights are better than others,” she replied cautiously, still not quite believing that he wasn’t hexing her into oblivion right about now.

He was silent for another moment. “See me after class on Friday, Miss Ward.”

“Detention?” she asked.

“No,” he replied in a clipped tone.

“In that case, you had better have some alcoholic drinks ready then,” she declared.

His condescending scowl was her only answer.

“Oh come on! I’ve been on forced sobriety for two months. Do you have any idea how hard that is?”

Snape rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, leaving her standing alone in the corridor.

“I do hope they eventually teach us how to turn water into wine,” she muttered, heading back into the Great Hall. _When that happens, I plan on getting myself piss-assed drunk!_


	13. Chapter 13

Friday rolled around with swift procession and Lauren found herself once again alone with Snape, the Potion’s lesson for the day now at an end.

“Do you really have to be such an ass to Harry and Neville?” she asked heatedly as the door closed firmly behind the last student– a visibly disgruntled Gryffindor boy. She couldn’t much blame the Gryffindors for being livid. Hell, even she was unable to overlook Snape’s surly temperament today.

Their lesson had been rather vicious, even by Snape’s standards, and neither of the aforementioned boys had escaped Snape’s scathing and belittling remarks as he publicly humiliated them in front of the entire class. Neville she could understand – the accident-prone boy had succeeded in blowing up his cauldron yet again. Lauren had lost count of how many cauldrons that was now.

But Harry had done nothing to deserve Snape’s tyranny. Severus had just conveniently chosen him to pick on in a childish fit of temper.

“Yes,” Severus snapped from his position behind his desk. His long fingers were steepled in front of him as he settled back in his chair, his dark eyes glinting dangerously as he studied her.

Lauren shook her head, sending her long waves tumbling over her shoulders as she advanced towards his desk. “That’s petty, even for you. Get over your grudge already…_Sir_.” She said his title with as much contempt as she could muster.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, his body stilling. The air between them was immediately charged with thick tension. Lauren was reminded of a snake, coiled and readying to strike with lightning fast reflexes. If Lauren was less foolhardy, or stubborn, she would have heeded the warning signs and have fled right there and then. Instead, she glared right back at him, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.

“You think this is merely a grudge am I harboring towards his father?” Snape asked, his words low and pronounced, each syllable carefully enunciated.

Lauren arched a brow, clearly indicating that this was exactly what she thought.

Snape rose slowly to his feet and clutched the edge of his desk, leaning forward as he spoke so that he was now eye level with her.

“You know nothing,” he hissed.

Lauren barked out a harsh laugh. “I know more than you think.”

Snape growled low in his throat, clearly displeased that she did, in fact, know far more about him than was comfortable. Lauren couldn’t much blame him for his apparent displeasure, for Snape was a very guarded and reserved man who kept his secrets chained under lock and key.

And even though he put on this act of being dislikeable – okay, maybe it wasn’t wholly an act, as Snape harbored no secret love for Harry – she knew that deep down he did care. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t endure unimaginable torture at the hands of Voldemort in the years to come, spilling his blood to ensure their safety and that the Order would have a chance of winning the war.

“If you know everything, as you so claim, then you would realize my motives as well as my reasons for treating the boy the way I do,” he sneered, shooting her a disgusted look that matched his barbed words.

Lauren paused and thought about it. Really thought about it. Snape was a Slytherin through and through. His every move and action were made with careful thought and deliberation. There was a higher motive behind it all.

“You need him to hate you,” she said slowly. Snape remained motionless as he waited for her to connect the dots. “You need your so-called mutual hatred for each other to be publicly known so that there will be no doubts about your loyalty when Vol…”

Lauren snapped her mouth shut when Severus let out a pained hiss at her almost saying Voldemort’s name out loud, her stomach coiling into a tight knot as she realized that she had come very close to revealing that Voldemort would return to power in the near future.

_Fuckity fuck! Dumbledore warned me to keep my trap shut!_

Lauren took a tentative step back from the desk, her eyes wide.

Snape slowly straightened up; his features expressionless as he regarded her dispassionately. 

“The Dark Lord will return. This is as certain as the sun rising in the East, Miss Ward,” he drawled as he turned his back on her and made his way to one of the shelves lined with pickled unknowns. His features were set in hard lines of concentration as he continued. “You have not revealed anything I do not already suspect. It’s only a matter of time.”

Lauren swallowed hard and nodded, even though Snape couldn’t see her. She stared at his rigid back, wondering how he could be so calm, blasé even. She felt as though the knowledge she possessed was going to tear her apart.

“This is partly the reason I asked you to stay after class today.”

Lauren frowned confusedly at his words. “You want me to tell you what’s going to happen?”

Snape turned around to face her and rolled his eyes, reverting back to his usual snarky self. “Miss Ward, please do not discredit what little esteem I hold for you by spewing such foolish things.”

Lauren flushed in embarrassment, though a small part of her was downright flummoxed that Snape held any sort of respect for her.

“Now, when the Dark Lord returns, it is safe to presume that war will be upon us. It is best to be prepared for the dark times ahead of us. And seeing as you have been dragged into this mess, Miss Ward, it is best to prepare you as well.”

Lauren cocked her head, studying his profile with a critical eye.

“Prepare me how?”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Snape replied, “You have shown an aptitude for Potions in a markedly short amount of time – once you overcame your stubborn refusal to accept things.” Snape shot her a look; a look that was reminiscent of one a father would give his misbehaving child. “I do believe you have the instincts to brew perfectly acceptable potions.”

This, coming from Snape, was a very high compliment indeed. Lauren, for once, had no smart-assed comment to add.

“I intend to teach you the necessary potions you will need for what is to come.”

Lauren nodded slowly, processing his words. She was now a part of events, and whether she liked it or not, she was going to be involved in this war. And, as Snape had stated, she needed to learn some vital skills if she was to have any hope of surviving. And, if there was one person she trusted to help pull her through this, it was Snape.

“Today, I will be teaching you how to brew a Pepper-Up potion.”

Lauren frowned. “Isn’t that used to treat the common cold?”

“Yes. It also has restorative properties – something you are in need of if your…sleepless nights remain persistent.”

He gave her a measured look. Then with a flick of his hand, writing appeared on the blackboard.

“You may begin.”

Lauren stared at him, feeling dazed that he was even doing this for her. She was also grateful that he wasn’t prying too much about her nightmare plagued dreams. Lauren was coping by choosing not to dwell on what happened to her, but at night she had no control over her subconscious. Though, she had noticed that the images were less intense now that she was practicing Occlumency.

“Today, Miss Ward,” he drawled.

Lauren snapped out of her thoughts and read over the ingredients and instructions before making her way to the storeroom to gather the items she would need.

As she brewed, Snape drifted into her field of vision, standing on the other side of her desk as he watched her work.

As had been his custom since the revelation of their magical bond, Snape was ensuring that physical distance was maintained between them at all times. It would seem that he was just as wary of their connection as what she was. She had been diligently working on her Occlumency, but she still did not trust that she had enough control over her misbehaving magic. And, by the looks of it, neither did he.

Lauren ignored him as she stirred, concentrating intently on brewing, but her thoughts started to drift.

Lauren had to admit that she found it rather disconcerting that Snape was helping her by preparing her for what was to come. She had also noticed that he did not treat her like a child and could be downright civil towards her when the mood struck. This was very much at odds with the bristly persona he wore like an armor when he was around others. Snape, it would seem, was a very complicated man with equally complicated motives.

“You are the most complex person I have ever met,” Lauren muttered, realizing with horror that she had said that out loud.

She dared to meet his gaze and saw that his brow was arched at her statement, though he remained unmoved by her observation.

“The same could be said for you, Miss Ward.”

Lauren choked on her laugh. “Me? Complex? I’m as blunt and straightforward as they come. No mysteries when it comes to me.”

“Yet you recovered from your…ordeal fairly quickly.” Snape paused dramatically; his eyes boring into her with such intensity that it was making her feel rather uncomfortable. “Which leads me to believe that this is not the first traumatic episode you have endured.”

Lauren ducked her head and kept her gaze resolutely trained on her bubbling cauldron.

“Am I to assume that your silence means that I am correct,” he pressed.

“That,” she stated through clenched teeth, “is none of your business.”

There was a prolonged pause. “Yet, if you wish for me to teach you Occlumency, all your secrets, as well as certain knowledge, will be revealed to me. I will know you as intimately as you claim to know me,” he drawled.

Lauren felt the blood drain from her face, but to her credit, she managed to keep her concentration on her potion.

“Do you still wish to proceed?” This was asked softly, without any derision or judgement.

Lauren finished adding the final ingredient and after three stirs, extinguished the flame under the cauldron. She gripped the edge of her desk, willing her heartrate to slow as she stared into her cauldron, thinking. Did she really want Snape to learn everything about her? When it came to her past, she was just as secretive as what he was. And then there was the danger of him glimpsing what was to come…

“Can I think about it?” she asked, a slight shake to her voice.

“Yes.”

Lauren glanced up, unable to mask her relief. Snape regarded her for a moment without comment and then picked up the ladle from her workstation, dipping it into the cauldron. Bringing the spoon up to eye level, he tilted it slightly and let the liquid dribble back into the cauldron.

“Color and consistency are weak. You will need more practice to perfect this,” he stated, placing the now empty ladle back onto the counter.

Lauren gave a nod; grateful they were now on a less dangerous topic.

“Next Friday I want you to attempt to brew this again. Once it meets my standards, we can proceed onto the next potion.”

“I don’t know…that might cut into my busy social life,” she stated dryly. Snape eyed her and she couldn’t help but flash him an impish grin. She thought she caught a flash of amusement in his dark eyes.

“I’ll escort you back to your Common Room,” he said, flicking his wand over her cauldron and effectively vanishing the contents within.

He strode over to the door and held it open for her. Lauren murmured her thanks as she passed him, though she noticed that he visibly stiffened when she came dangerously close to brushing against him.

As he shut the door behind them Lauren glanced up and gasped, clutching at his arm without thinking. Her magic instantly flared like a searing jolt of electricity, and she snatched her hand away with a heartfelt curse. Snape, for his part, had gone rigid, but not due to her touch or the use of swear word. He had now noticed what had caused her to panic.

Striding towards them, his bright turban sorely out of place in the gloom of the dungeons, was Professor Quirrell.

Snape stepped forward, angling his body so that he was now blocking Lauren from Quirrell’s view.

“Professor Quirrell,” Snape drawled as the other Professor neared them, his voice dripping with contemptuousness.

“P…P…Professor Snape,” Quirrell greeted back nervously.

Lauren peered around Snape’s dark robes and Quirrell’s eyes instantly snapped in her direction.

“M…M…Miss Ward?” he stuttered. Lauren’s eyes narrowed at the shrewd cunning she glimpsed in his features before he hastily replaced it with the stuttering, bumbling façade.

“Professor Quirrell,” she replied cagily.

“W…W…What are you d…d…doing here?”

_I could ask you the same thing, _she thought.

“Miss Ward is a Slytherin and, as a Slytherin, resides in the dungeon. Her presence here is not suspicious. You, however, are not known to roam the dungeons…” Snape let his insinuation hang heavy in the air. His whole body was taut as he stood in front of her, and Lauren thought she glimpsed his wand slipping from the sleeve of his robe, hidden by the voluminous black. Snape’s distrust of the Professor had skyrocketed since the Quidditch match.

Quirrell fidgeted under Snape’s penetrating glare. “P…P…Peeves has been c…c…causing some disturbances. I c…c…came down here to make s…s…sure he wasn’t causing any trouble here.”

It was a plausible excuse – Peeves the Poltergeist was always up to mischief, but he very rarely wandered down to the dungeon, where the Bloody Baron was usually to be found. The Bloody Baron was one of the select few whom Peeves was truly scared of.

Lauren glanced up at Snape’s profile and could immediately discern that he didn’t buy this pathetic excuse.

“Miss Ward, kindly make your way back to your dorm. Now,” Snape ordered out of the corner of his mouth.

Lauren didn’t need to be told twice and hastily scampered away from the two Professors, but not before she heard Snape say, “Shall I help you search for Peeves?”

“T…t…that won’t be n…n…necessary.”

“I insist,” Snape drawled silkily. An image of a spider coaxing a fly to its web sprang to Lauren’s mind.

She did not hear Quirrell’s stammered response as she raced back towards her dormitory. The fact that he was now venturing into the dungeons was not good. Not good at all.

~oOo~

Lauren received a note from Snape the following day saying that it would be inadvisable to continue with their private lessons for now. She was disappointed, but she knew that it wouldn’t be wise, especially now that Quirrell was becoming bolder in his endeavors.

The Christmas holidays were soon upon them and the grounds were now covered in a thick white blanket of snow. It would have been quite picturesque if it wasn’t so bloody cold. Lauren swore she could see her frosty breath whenever she was down in the dungeons.

All too soon most of the students had left the castle to return home for Christmas, including Tracey.

Lauren, as much as she hated to admit it, suddenly felt all alone. She was really starting to miss her little shadow. It still amazed her that she had grown quite attached to Tracey in such a short amount of time.

And, admittedly, she also missed Severus Snape. She told herself that it was because he was the only person she could have a real adult conversation with, and she could be herself around him. Not to mention his lessons also kept her enthralled.

But, when alone with her thoughts, she realized that she also missed his snarky attitude and the way he could rile her up with a simple remark.

_Goddamn…I must be lonely if I miss that, _she thought to herself. She did concede that, when alone, Snape was different with her. Still infuriating, but less so. Somewhere along the way, they had developed a grudging friendship, hard as it was to believe. She knew she could trust him – and trust did not come naturally to her.

Lauren was the only Slytherin to remain at Hogwarts, and now the Common Room was achingly empty, devoid of the usual bustle of rowdy students.

She was seated in front of the fire, watching the flames with a sense of detachment. Most of the teachers had remained at the castle, and that, annoyingly, included Quirrell. She did not dare risk wandering alone when the threat of him loomed around every corner.

The door to the Common Room swung open silently on its hinges and in strode Snape in his customary billow of black.

“Oh good! Entertainment!” Lauren exclaimed jumping to her feet. She had to resist the urge to run to him and give him a big hug. She didn’t think she would live to tell the tale.

Snape arched a sardonic brow.

“I am absolutely bored,” she explained.

“Then entertain yourself,” he stated without much sympathy.

_Okay, maybe I didn’t miss him that much…_

Lauren huffed. “I read your book cover to cover and made notes. I’ve finished all my homework, and I even made my bed. And it’s only been day one of the Christmas holidays. There’s nothing left for me to do. It’s not like I can even go to the library or go outside, not with Quirrell wandering around. And I have no more Potion’s lessons to look forward to,” she bemoaned. She deliberately left out the fact that she had been contemplating going into Draco’s dorm room and pranking some of his things. She didn’t think Snape’s leniency towards her would stretch that far.

Snape regarded her for a moment. “Then it should come as good news that the Headmaster has requested your presence.”

Lauren was instantly alert. She had been waiting for what felt like forever to speak to him. But before she could get her hopes up, she realized with sudden clarity what this visit was really all about.

“He’s taking me to the Ministry,” she stated, deflating.

“It would seem so,” Snape replied. “Dress warmly. It’s cold outside.”

Lauren went to her room and retrieved a warm winter jacket and shrugged it on, zipping it all the way up to her chin. She hastily grabbed a scarf, gloves and woolen hat, all emblazoned with emerald green and silver, before meeting Snape back in the Common Room.

She followed him as he escorted her to the Headmaster’s study.

“What can I expect?” she asked, more to break the silence than anything else. Snape was too preoccupied with his thoughts to talk much.

“The usual and mundane nonsense the Ministry officials like to spout,” he remarked dryly and rather unhelpfully.

“Not a big fan, I take it.”

His derisive snort was answer enough.

They reached the stone gargoyle and Snape muttered the password, causing it to leap aside. With a sharp nudge of his head, Severus indicated for her to go on up.

Lauren obeyed, feeling his piercing gaze trained on her with each step until she was out of sight.

She knocked on the door and entered when she heard Dumbledore’s gravelly voice on the other side telling her to come in.

The Headmaster was standing in the middle of the room, decked out in royal maroon robes and his long white beard tied partway down with a matching ribbon. He gave her a benign smile as Lauren stepped further into the study.

“Good morning, Miss Ward,” he greeted cheerfully.

“Mornin’,” she supplied.

“Are you ready to go to the Ministry?”

“I suppose now is good a time as any,” she remarked offhandedly, wondering with trepidation how he planned to transport her there. Lauren didn’t fancy another Side-Along Apparition episode – her stomach instantly churning at the very idea.

“Yes, no time like the present,” Dumbledore agreed, his tone still merry. He strode towards the fireplace and carefully lifted a clay jar from the mantle, grabbing a fistful of Floo Powder before returning the pot to its spot.

“Ah, before I forget,” he said, turning his attention to her once more, “you forgot to give me the names of your parents during our last visit.”

Lauren came to stand beside him, eyeing the flickering flames within the fireplace with unease, not quite trusting that she wasn’t going to get roasted alive.

“No, I didn’t forget,” she replied, finally glancing up at him. She made sure that her true emotions regarding her parents reflected in her eyes.

“Hmm, I thought so,” Dumbledore mused but, to his credit, he did not push her for a reason for her omission. “Shall we?” he asked, extending his elbow for her to take.

She glanced back at the flames. “If I get burnt to a crisp, I’m so kicking your ass,” she muttered, finally taking his elbow.

“I see you figured out the counter spell,” he remarked, though it lacked any derision. In fact, he sounded unsurprised. Lauren chose not to reply.

He flung the powder into the fireplace, causing the roaring flames to morph into a brilliant emerald green hue. Dumbledore stepped with agile grace into the now harmless flames, dragging a reluctant Lauren with him.

“Ministry of Magic,” he stated in a clear voice.

Lauren felt as though she were being sucked down a giant plug hole. She held her breath and closed her eyes tightly as she starting spinning uncontrollably, willing her breakfast to stay put.

Finally the spinning ceased, and Dumbledore stepped out at their destination, gently helping Lauren from the fireplace they had arrived in.

“For people that possess magic, you guys really need to work on a better mode of transportation,” Lauren muttered peevishly as she dusted the soot from her jacket. “That was about as bad as Side-Along Apparition. And did I mention how uncomfortable brooms are? They are, quite literally, a pain in the ass.”

Dumbledore chuckled, but Lauren failed to see the humor in the situation. She was speaking the bloody truth. The magical world did possess rather uncomfortable and stomach-churning methods of getting from one place to another.

“This way,” Dumbledore said, amusement still discernable in his tone.

As the proceeded forth, Lauren openly gaped at the grandeur of the Ministry of Magic which, right now, was a bustling hive of activity. They were currently in the Atrium and in the distance, she could make out the large circular water fountain, water spouting from the golden statues of the wizard, witch, centaur, goblin and house-elf.

All around them workers for the Ministry stepped out of the flaring green flames of the fireplaces that lined both sides of the corridor, joining the throng of witches and wizards as they made their way to their departments.

Lauren felt as though she were in a busy underground subway. The din that surrounded her from all sides, as well as the sea of bodies that jostled beside her as everyone hurried to get to work sure made it feel that way. But no subway station could ever be as grand, or as magical, as this.

They arrived at a pair of gilded gates, where a security guard by the name of Eric stood, looking thoroughly bored as he demanded their wands for registration.

Once they had passed security, they came to a series of rickety looking lifts. Dumbledore stepped calmly into one and patiently waited for Lauren to follow suit. As soon as she stepped in, he reached over and pressed a button on the panel and the lift lowered with an ominous creak, doing nothing to abate Lauren’s misgivings. She was starting to wonder how safe these contraptions really were.

Tinny music sounded over the speaker and soon an off-tune hum joined in. Lauren slowly turned her head to see that, unsurprisingly, it was issuing from Dumbledore, who was humming along to the dreadful music. He seemed unconcerned by the incredulous look she was shooting him.

_Why couldn’t I have come here with Severus. He would never dream of torturing me with tuneless humming._

Lauren cracked a smile at the thought of the surly and acerbic Professor doing such a thing. No, she couldn’t imagine him humming. He would probably blast the speaker right there and then.

Finally the lift shuddered to a halt. The gates creaked open and a female voice sounded over the speaker, announcing that they had reached the Department of Records.

Dumbledore stepped out and Lauren followed, getting increasingly annoyed that he was still humming that dreadful tune.

He halted outside a large arched door with golden lettering stating: _Department of Records. Room 2A. Bernie Fernsby. _

Raising his hand, Dumbledore knocked firmly on the wooden door. Muttering could be heard from the other side, followed by the distinct sound of something toppling over onto the floor. Lauren thought she had heard a rather colorful curse word being uttered.

Suddenly the door was flung open to reveal a short, balding man with thick square spectacles perched on his overly large nose. He wore bright lime green robes and in his hand was clutched a thick dusty tome. He peered intently at them through his glasses before recognition dawned on his features.

“Albus! Ah yes! Sorry, I forgot you were coming this morning. Come inside. Come inside,” he enthused, stepping aside to grant them entrance.

Lauren paused over the threshold; her gaze held spellbound by the cathedral-like room. The dusty interior, which resembled a large library, was lined wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-ceiling with bookshelves, each crammed with books and tomes. It was a book-lover’s dream.

“Thank you, Bernie,” Dumbledore said, shaking the other man’s hand.

“Not at all, Albus.” Bernie turned his attention towards Lauren and eyed her curiously. “Is this the student?”

“Yes. This is Miss Lauren Ward.”

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Ward,” Bernie stated, offering her his hand.

Lauren shook it but offered no remark. She really had no idea what to say in a situation like this.

“I must say, when you asked me to look into her records, Albus, I never would have guessed that she would be the descendant of Bethany Ward.” Bernie looked feverishly excited.

“Why? Who was she?” Lauren asked, her curiosity piqued.

At her question, Bernie gave her a look of bewilderment.

“Miss Ward is from the Muggle world, Bernie,” Dumbledore explained. “She doesn’t know who Bethany Ward is.”

“Oh, I see,” Bernie replied. He placed his tome on his already cluttered desk and turned back to face her, scratching thoughtfully at his chin.

“Bethany Ward was a truly exceptional and talented Potion Mistress, considered the most accomplished of her time. Her talents lay in creating unique poisons, as well as discovering various antidotes for an array of poisons.” Bernie’s face became more flushed with enthusiasm as he continued. “Yes, yes, she was a very skilled witch. Pity she was the last of the Ward line. Until you. I do wonder if you have inherited some of her talents?” he mused, peering at her with undisguised scrutiny through his thick glasses.

“Professor Snape informs me that Miss Ward is showing promise,” Dumbledore replied cryptically.

Lauren’s head snapped in his direction, confusion welling within her at the fact that Snape was even singing her praises.

Dumbledore either didn’t notice her bewilderment or chose to ignore it. “The examination, Bernie?” he coaxed.

“Right! Right. Yes,” Bernie said, nodding enthusiastically. He stumbled over to a large towering filing cabinet that stood in the corner of the room and, raising his wand, he murmured a summoning charm. A cubby flew open and a rolled-up parchment zoomed out and shot straight into his outstretched hand.

Bernie made his way to his desk and haphazardly swept the mess to one side, unrolling the parchment on the now cleared surface. Lauren edged closer to get a better look, noting that Dumbledore was doing the same.

At the very top of the yellowed parchment was the crest of the House of Ward: a midnight blue shield edged with emerald green. A ‘W’ was emblazoned in the middle of the shield and twisting along the edges on the shield on either side were two snakes. Lauren peered closer and saw that these were no ordinary snakes. Each one had a horn on its head, along with a jewel embedded on their foreheads.

“What are those?” she asked, pointing at one of the snakes.

“That is a Horned Serpent,” Bernie explained. “It is a magical snake found in bodies of water. They are very intelligent and the jewel on their heads are said to possess the power of invisibility and flight.”

“My wand’s core is from a Horned Serpent,” Lauren stated, feeling a twinge of excitement.

Bernie looked as though he was ready to jump up and down, such was his elation. “If that isn’t a clear indication that you are Bethany Ward’s descendant, then I don’t know what is!”

“A simple test should prove it,” Dumbledore said calmly, ever the voice of reason. His tone seemed to guide the overly excited wizard back to the task at hand.

“Yes, yes!” Bernie exclaimed, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. “Your hand please, Miss Ward,” he instructed, holding out his hand, palm facing up.

Lauren shot Dumbledore a questioning look and he gave her an encouraging nod in turn. She sighed and placed her hand in Bernie’s own. He turned her hand over and then pressed the tip of his wand to her index finger.

Lauren let out a startled yelp when she felt a sharp prick.

“Sorry,” Bernie muttered. “We need your blood for this.”

“A warning would have been nice,” Lauren muttered, shooting him a withering look.

Bernie ignored the jibe and squeezed her fingertip, causing a bright red droplet of blood to bead the pad of her fingertip. He then guided her hand to the parchment and pressed her bloodied finger against the sheet of paper. Once he released her hand, Lauren snatched it back and cradled it to her chest, resisting the urge to suck on it.

The bloody spot slowly seeped into the parchment and everyone in the room held their breath collectively. Suddenly there was a flash of bright golden light, momentarily blinding them. Lauren blinked rapidly and watched with astonishment as elegant looped writing appeared on the parchment, listing the long line of the Ward family tree. At the very bottom was Bethany Anne Ward’s name and then a few lines beneath that, appeared Lauren’s own name.

“Well that proves it!” Bernie cried happily, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Lauren had no idea what to feel. Here was actual proof that she was a living descendant of, in Bernie’s words, one of the greatest Potion Mistresses of all time. And all she could do was stare in stunned silence at the piece of paper.

_How is this even possible? Does this change anything?_ Lauren had no idea.

“Splendid,” Dumbledore stated, clapping his hands together. Lauren had the distinct impression that he was humoring the other wizard.

Bernie managed to compose himself, though two spots of red still flushed his cheeks, and tapped his wand against the sheet of parchment. A duplicate appeared next to it, and he handed it to Lauren, who took it numbly.

“When you go to Gringotts, produce this parchment to one of the goblins and they will give you the key to your vault. I also have the deed to the Ward manor…” Bernie trailed off, glancing over his shoulder at Dumbledore with a small frown furrowing his brows. “I understand that you want to personally go through the house and check for any…curses and such.”

“That is correct,” Dumbledore agreed amiably.

Shifting, Bernie now faced the Headmaster. “Miss Ward here is underage and as such, she is going to need a guardian if she is to reside at the manor. She cannot live there by herself.”

“I will discuss the options available to Miss Ward. I’m sure we will find an appropriate…guardian for her.” Dumbledore looked faintly amused at the thought.

“If not, the Ministry will assign one.”

Lauren shuddered visibly as an image of Umbridge becoming her guardian sprang unbidden to her mind – a thought that made her queasy.

“Understood. When Miss Ward and I have come to an agreement, I will inform you of the decision.”

Bernie nodded, satisfied. “Alright then. I’ll give you this for safekeeping,” he said, handing Dumbledore the deed to the manor, which he had conjured with a flick of his wand.

Glancing briefly at it, Dumbledore tucked the parchment into an inner pocket of his robes. Bernie shook both their hands and after an enthused farewell, Dumbledore ushered Lauren out of the room.

They made their way back to the Atrium, Lauren too shell-shocked to say anything. Dumbledore was uncharacteristically leaving her to her thoughts.

Once they reached the passageway of fireplaces, Dumbledore halted her from stepping inside by placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Did you wish to visit to Gringotts? Perhaps do some shopping afterwards,” he asked kindly, almost as though he knew that Lauren was feeling overwhelmed at having to process all that had transpired.

Lauren despised shopping and was about to refuse, but the thought of Tracey and the fact that she hadn’t gotten her little friend a Christmas present filled her with guilt.

“Fine,” she sighed in defeat. “But don’t think I’m tagging along while you shop for brightly mismatched socks. I draw the line at that.”

Dumbledore chuckled as he guided her into the fireplace. “Of course not. I was hoping to find some more tea cozies, though.”

Lauren groaned.

~oOo~

A few hours later they Floo’d back to the Headmaster’s study, Lauren hefting her loaded bag of purchases through the fireplace.

Her mind was still reeling at the fact that she had inherited quite a fortune, if the gold in her vault was any indication. She had no idea if it really was a fortune or not as she was still struggling to figure out the wizarding currency. But gold was gold, and there had been a lot.

“I’ll let Severus know you are here, and he can escort you back to your room,” Dumbledore stated, flicking his wand and conjuring his Patronus, which was, unsurprisingly, a phoenix.

Lauren dropped her shopping to the floor and slumped into one of the chairs by the Headmaster’s desk. Dumbledore swept past her and was now affectionately petting Fawkes.

Lauren knew now was the perfect opportunity to speak to him.

“I was rather hoping to speak to you about something.”

“Ah, yes. Professor Snape has informed me about Professor Quirrell –.”

“Actually, that’s not what is troubling me, though your lack of concern regarding Quirrell is rather disturbing, I will admit.” Dumbledore raised his brow, but Lauren continued. “No, I wanted to speak to you about something more serious.” She could not hide the bitterness seeping into her voice. Nor the accusatory tone.

Dumbledore regarded her shrewdly, a hard edge entering his usually twinkling eyes. She stared back at him with a measured look of her own, refusing to back down. She, quite frankly, was done with all the games.

“You wish to reveal everything to me.”

Lauren gave a nod. “Yes.”

“That would be unwise. I do hope you realize why that would be so?”

“Yes.”

He stared at her; his features hard to read. “Then why risk it?”

“We both know War is coming – it’s inevitable. This you know. And although I know the reasons behind why you will do some of the things you will do, I think you forget about the one person who will suffer more than any man should.”

“You are referring to Professor Snape.”

Lauren gave a nod.

Dumbledore sighed wearily. “Have you perhaps considered, Miss Ward, that both Severus and I know what is at stake, as well as the trials and tribulations that will have to be endured in order to win this war?”

Lauren blinked. She had held the suspicion that Severus had longed for the embrace of death for quite some time now, ever since Lily’s death. The only thing that kept him tethered to this world was the vow he had made to protect her son. Once that promise was fulfilled, however, there would be no more reason for him to continue on.

“And you’re okay with that?” She could not halt the sting of tears that filled her eyes. “Everything you’re going to ask of him…you’re okay with that?”

Dumbledore strode towards her with surprising agility for such an old man. He stooped and placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, the gesture conveying his regret.

“No, Miss Ward,” he answered. “But both Severus and I know that sacrifices need to be made, and we are both willing to do as such.”

“For the Greater Good?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes,” he said sadly, and he actually sounded genuine.

Lauren stood abruptly, anger flaring within her. Dumbledore straightened and dropped his hand to his side.

“It’s just…it’s just so unfair.”

“I know, Miss Ward. Severus has endured more than most, and he shall have to persevere through even worse when Voldemort returns. I suspect that he harbors neither hope, nor the will, to come out of this war alive.”

“Maybe if I can show you everything, we can change what happens to him…”

Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

Lauren blinked back the tears. “Surely there is something else – anything else – that we can do!”

Dumbledore had the grace to look forlorn. “It is not up to me.”

“Then who?!”

As though by answer there came a knock on the door.

“Come in, Severus,” Dumbledore called out.

The door opened and in stepped the topic of their heated discussion. Snape paused in the doorway, his scrutinizing gaze taking in the scene before him. Lauren hastily averted her tear-filled gaze and looked over at the Headmaster, who had a brow arched at her, almost as though he were saying: _The decision is his._

Lauren strode over to her shopping and snatched it up before storming over to Snape. He regarded her with an almost curious look but said nothing as he stepped aside to let her pass. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye to the Headmaster.

Lauren made her way down the winding staircase and soon his dark form stepped beside her as they strode down the deserted corridor.

“As much as I enjoy your silence, a rarity in itself, I have to surmise that something is troubling you.”

Lauren glared ahead. “Let’s just say my conversation with Dumbledore…didn’t go according to plan.” she finally growled.

A shadow of a smirk was her answer. “It usually never does.”

Lauren sighed, frustration welling inside of her. It was now obvious that she would get no help from Dumbledore. He had all but made it clear that she was to remain silent with her knowledge. Part of her had expected it. But his refusal to budge, even to help Snape, is what troubled her the most.

Silence stretched before her and Snape. Even though his sights were trained ahead, Lauren knew that he was studying her from the corner of his eye.

They reached the doors to the Slytherin Common room and Snape turned to face her. “Meet me in the Common Room at eight o’clock tonight. I think now is the perfect opportunity to resume your Potion’s lessons.”

Lauren felt her spirits lift somewhat, and briefly wondered if that had been Snape’s intention.

“What about Quirrell?”

The corners of his mouth slowly curved up. “Leave that to me.”

Lauren grinned at him. Suddenly eager for him to remain a few more moments longer, she asked, “Did you know that Bethany Ward was quite the accomplished Potions Mistress?”

“Yes.”

“And now it would seem that I am her descendant.”

Snape snorted. “You have a long way to go before you even reach a fraction of her skill levels.” He sounded distinctly unimpressed by her news.

“Yet you told Dumbledore that I have potential,” she pointed out.

Snape rolled his eyes. “Potential does not equate to the high esteem that Miss Bethany Ward was held in.”

“Good thing you’ll be teaching me for the next seven years then.”

Snape grimaced, though Lauren was getting better at reading him. There was no genuineness to his action.

“Don’t remind me,” he said dryly. “Eight o’clock tonight. Don’t be late.” And with that he departed in a billow of black, Lauren watching him and wandering if she would ever decode the mystery of Snape.


	14. Chapter 14

Lauren paced in front of the large fireplace in the Slytherin Common room, checking her wristwatch for what felt like the thousandth time.

The watch, which had been acquired during her trip to Diagon Alley, had been a purchase of necessity, or so Lauren told herself. When she had been thrown into this world, she had arrived with nothing but the clothes on her back. And being forced back into school (something which still irked her), keeping track of the time was essential.

The watch was a simple round-faced wristwatch with a black leather strap, and the face was ringed in a shimmering cobalt hue. It was quite nondescript compared to the others that had been on sale at the little watchmaker’s store.

There had been watches that would loudly announce the time at hourly intervals, or others that would emit different sound effects; some animals, some Lauren had no words for. Some watches would tinkle softly like wind chimes swayed by a gentle breeze, while others let off little puffs of smoke as the seconds ticked by. The advanced section of watches was far more complicated, the faces reflecting the twinkling constellations in the night sky instead of showing the time.

Lauren had considered a safe bet to settle for the one she now wore.

She glanced back down again at her wrist and huffed in exasperation when she saw she still had five minutes to go until eight o’clock. Snape, being the punctual person that he was, would arrive at precisely that time, no sooner and no later.

Lauren paused and gazed into the flickering flames of the fire, the echoing silence filling the Common Room jarring. Dinner had been a similar (and somewhat sobering) experience. In fact, ever since her fellow Slytherins had left for the holidays, they had left behind a gaping void. Lauren was starting to miss their presence during mealtimes, as well as their boisterous laughter and mindless chatter that filled her with a sense of warmth and unity.

Now she was all alone and the highlight of her evening was waiting for Severus to show up and escort her to their lessons – something that she had been looking forward to all day, if truth be told.

Lauren blinked out of her thoughts and tilted her head slightly to the side, thinking she had heard something. She almost snorted at the idea – Snape was like a specter of the night; moving with near silent footsteps as he traversed the murky shadows unseen.

“Are you, perhaps, waiting for me, Miss Ward?” a silky voice sounded from behind her, making Lauren jump with undignified yelp.

She whirled around to find Snape standing behind her, tall and imposing and swathed in his usual favorite hue of black. His raven hair framed his pale features, and his equally dark eyes bore into her as he stared down his nose at her.

“Ho…how did you get in here?” she squeaked, glancing over at the firmly closed door and then back at him. Lauren had been watching the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room for his arrival, and she was damn certain that he had not entered through there.

“Articulate as always, Miss Ward,” he sneered, amusement flashing in those dark depths.

“You know, I’m starting to think those rumors of you being a bat are true. How the actual fuck did you get in here?”

“Language, Miss Ward,” he chastised, his voice never rising, but somehow sounding threatening all the same. “Otherwise I will be the one the put the next spell on you and I can guarantee you that you’ll be hard-pressed to find the counter spell for it.”

Lauren waved her hand dismissively. “How did you get in here?!”

His lips curled into an actual smile, the expression almost alien on his features. Lauren was so used to seeing him with a scowl or sneer plastered on his face.

“A secret.”

Her eyes narrowed; her patience being sorely tested.

“A secret?”

Snape gave a single nod of his head.

“And are you planning on revealing this secret to me?”

Snape regarded her, the amused smirk still playing on his lips. The seconds ticked by.

Finally he responded. “In light of Professor Quirrell’s recent…boldness, yes, I have every intention on revealing this secret to you.”

Lauren rubbed tiredly at her forehead. “And being the sadistic bastard that you are, you figured you’d have a bit of fun with me first.”

“Something like that.”

Lauren glanced up sharply at him, aggravated by the fact that he was obviously garnering too much enjoyment in riling her up.

“Yeah, well, you’ve had your fun. Just tell me already.”

“No.”

Lauren was now staring daggers at him, which seemed to only amuse Snape even further. Though, Lauren couldn’t much blame him – she hardly cut an intimidating figure in her deceptively innocent looking twelve-year-old body.

“I have no intentions of telling you, though,” he said, pausing. “I had rather planned on _showing_ you instead…” Was it her imagination, or did she detect a hint of teasing in his tone.

Lauren arched a brow, resisting the urge to cross her arms and stamp her foot impatiently.

He shot her a smirk, as though reading her mind, and turned his back on her, striding towards a portrait on the other side of the room. Lauren debated whether to follow him. Part of her was just tempted to just flip him the bird and make her way back to her room, unwilling to play along with his infuriating mind games.

But the other part of her, the traitorous part, had been looking forward to tonight’s Potion’s lesson.

So, tamping down her ire, Lauren followed.

Severus glanced over his shoulder, amusement flashing in his dark eyes when he noted that she had chosen to follow suite.

“Don’t look smug,” she warned sullenly, thrusting her hands deep into her hoodie pockets. Now that the holidays were here, the students weren’t required to wear their school uniform, which was compulsory at all times except the weekends.

“Of course not,” he agreed dryly, inclining his head to the side.

Straightening, he turned to face the portrait, which depicted the image of a plump moon hanging like a ripened fruit in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over a lazily flowing and shallow stream.

“Illustratio,” Snape murmured, stepping back as the portrait swung open slowly on its hinges.

Lauren’s eyes widened. “Is this a secret passage?”

“It’s not exactly a secret, but its existence is kept fairly quiet. This passage leads directly to my private study and is used by the Prefects if they need me in an emergency.”

Lauren nodded in understanding. It made sense that, if an emergency, the Prefects would need a quick route to get their Head of House.

“And,” she asked, drawing the word out, “why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? All the sneaking about we had to do, and you had the solution right here.”

“And give you the key to impose upon my privacy whenever the mood struck you…I think not,” he sneered. “I would have been relentlessly hounded by you. But it seems now that I have no other choice.”

“You’re giving yourself way too much credit,” Lauren snarked back. “It’s not exactly like your company is desirable.”

“And yet here you are,” Snape pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for punishment,” she muttered. “So what does Illustriomeeno mean?”

“Illustratio,” he corrected. “It means Illumination_._”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “I would say that it’s apt, considering that we reside in the dungeons…”

Deciding he had had quite enough of her rambling, Snape strode past her with an impatient huff and entered the gloomy passage beyond, the darkness engulfing him. Lauren saw the tip of his wand light up, illuminating their way.

“Make sure you close the portrait behind you,” he ordered.

“Yes, _Sir_,” she muttered mockingly, but did as she was told.

They made their way through the passage and after a short amount of time, they came to another door.

Snape pushed it open and stepped out. Lauren followed shortly after and blinked when she realized that they were, in fact, in his study. She closed the portrait, which depicted an image of a medieval castle with bats flapping in the murky twilit sky.

Without a word, Snape strode over to the door that led to the Potion’s classroom and, yanking it open, stepped inside.

Lauren found her cauldron already set up at her workstation, as well as the instructions for the Pepper-Up potion scrawled on the blackboard.

She didn’t wait for Severus to draw breath and berate her for dawdling, and went to collect the ingredients from the storage room.

Returning to her desk, Lauren proceeded to follow the first few steps of the instructions. She hesitated when Snape sidled to the other side of her workstation, watching her every movement with a hawk-like gaze. Lauren ignored him and concentrated on her potion.

The minutes ticked by, the silence almost suffocating.

“Do you really have to hover?” she asked as she chopped up the Mandrake roots.

“Yes. Potion brewing is volatile and, in inexperience hands, unpredictable. One mistake could be disastrous.”

Lauren lifted her gaze, peering at him through her lashes as a thought occurred to her. “Is that why you constantly hover over Neville? To stop him from exploding the entire classroom and, by extension, us along with it?”

“Yes.” His expression was unreadable, giving nothing away.

Lauren turned her attention back to finely chopping up the thyme. “And here I thought it was because you just enjoyed intimidating him. Instead you’re making sure he doesn’t make grievous errors.”

Snape didn’t deign to reply, and she took his silence as confirmation of her suspicions.

The silence stretched and Lauren finally glanced back up at Severus, who was staring intently at her now bubbling cauldron, his body bent at the waist and his hands clasped behind his back. His hair had fallen around his face like a glossy curtain, his concentration intense and absolute.

“Were you there?” she asked quietly.

Snape slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers and arched a questioning brow. “Be more specific, Miss Ward. It’s not like I’m a…_mind reader_.”

Lauren snorted, realizing that he had just cracked a joke. Snape, she had noticed, did possess a sense of humor which was often delivered under the veil of cutting or dry sarcasm that made it almost impossible to detect.

Thinking better of it, Lauren shook her head. “Never mind.”

“I see you’re starting to think before you speak – there may be hope for you yet.”

Lauren cracked a smile. “Highly unlikely.”

Picking up her stirring rod, Lauren concentrated on evenly stirring the contents of the cauldron. She gently coaxed her magic into the bubbling brew, her eyes alighting when, at this critical stage, it morphed into the correct shade of indigo.

Lauren then added the crushed Bicorn Horn and five drops of Salamander blood, and resumed her stirring.

“What was your question?” Snape finally asked, still peering intently into the cauldron.

Lauren chewed her bottom lip. “Were you there when Neville’s parents were…tortured?”

There was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere, the air now thick with palpable tension. Lauren nervously glanced up and saw Snape was regarding her with a cold, stony expression.

“No,” he growled sharply, his tone forewarning that the topic was not to be discussed further. Lauren swallowed hard and turned her attention back to her potion.

The next thirty minutes followed in tense silence, Lauren adding the rest of the ingredients at the required stages, and Snape watching her every move through dark menacing eyes.

Finally the potion was complete, and Snape proceeded to examine it with a critical eye.

“It’s passable, but still weak,” he finally stated, letting the ladle drop back into the cauldron with a _clang_. “What do you think you could have done differently?” he asked, straightening up and folding his arms in front of him. He was now reverting back to Professor mode, grilling her for the correct answer. It was better than the aloof coldness he had been exuding before.

Lauren’s brows furrowed as she pondered his question. It was at the tip of her tongue to reply that she should have concentrated more on what she was doing or have channeled her magic more effectively. But Lauren stopped herself, something else nagging at the edge of her mind – an intuitive feeling.

“When I was stirring…” she began, feeling as though she were being tested, and maybe she was. “…It…I dunno, it felt as though I should have added a counter stir for every seven clockwise stirs.”

Snape regarded her for a moment, his features giving nothing away. “And why didn’t you?” he asked, his voice a silky whisper slithering along her skin.

Lauren squirmed under his gaze. “I…I was following the instructions.”

“And that is where you will fail, time and time again” he stated, abruptly turning his back on her. She heard him draw in a deep breath before he continued. “What have I told you about Potion brewing?”

“It’s an art form,” she immediately replied, his words from their very first lesson coming to the forefront. _The subtle science and exact art that is potion-making…_

Snape turned around to face her once more, his robes billowing like a phantasm around him. “Exactly,” he enunciated clearly. “Potion-making is not in the same category as Charms, where the incantation and wrist movement have to be precise in order for the spell to work. When brewing a potion, the written instructions in the textbooks are but a guideline – there is room for improvement, improvisation. What separates the mediocre from the Masters is the intuition possessed to know when to add a different ingredient, crush a Sopophorous bean instead of chopping it up, or…” he paused for dramatic effect, his eyes boring into her as he held her spellbound by his speech, “…add a counter stir after every seven.”

Lauren blinked mutely at him. After several heartbeats had passed, Lauren blurted out, “Did you just pay me a compliment?”

Snape snorted. “Is that all you retained from what I just said?”

“Oh no, I understood it all perfectly.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Yet, that is the question you chose to pose.”

Lauren gripped the edge of her desk as she leaned slightly forward over her workstation. She gave him a wolfish grin. “Admit it – you just complimented my…intuition.”

“Your intuition will be a waste if you do not implement it,” he remarked back with his usual snark.

Lauren rolled her eyes, knowing there was no way in hell Severus Snape was ever going to admit that she did have a gift when it came to potion brewing.

“Okay then,” she said with a dramatic sigh, straightening up. “My next question is why don’t you teach this stuff in class?”

“Firstly, very few possess a passion for potion-making. Most just choose to scrape through with minimal effort and opt to mindlessly follow the instructions given to them from the textbooks.”

“And secondly?”

“It is safer for first years up to the end of fifth years to follow instructions from the textbooks. You can imagine the dangerous accidents that would occur is those dunderheads even attempted to stray from the given text.”

Lauren’s thoughts immediately went straight to Neville and she had to admit that Snape had a very valid point.

“Fair enough. So sixth and seventh years are allowed to experiment a bit?”

“I do give them some leeway, yes, but the select few that do make it into my NEWT classes very seldom choose to deviate from the guidelines. And fewer yet actually hold a burning passion for the subject.”

A pang of pity shot through her. How difficult must it have been for Snape, who was gifted in his chosen profession, to have to try and impart that knowledge to students who showed very little interest or appreciation for the subtle art of potion-making? It must have been quite disheartening for him over the years to see all his efforts wasted.

_Is that why he is making such a concerted effort to teach me? _

Lauren didn’t have the answer to that question. She could not deny that a thrill of excitement coursed through her veins when she started brewing a potion and succeeded in effectively completing it. It always seemed to fill her with a sense of accomplishment, contentment even as she quietly stirred her cauldron, becoming engrossed in her task.

_Does he see something in me that I haven’t quite yet realized?_

She glanced up to see Snape staring at her with a guarded expression. “I think it’s time for you to head back to your room, Miss Ward. Meet me here again tomorrow night. Same time,” he stated in a low voice.

Lauren’s eyes widened in surprise. She had thought this was only going to be a once-a-week occurrence.

“Every night?”

“Unless you have somewhere more important to be,” he sneered.

Lauren rolled her eyes as Snape absently vanished the contents of her cauldron with a lazy wave of his slender hand. As she made her way to the door leading to his study, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Good night, Miss Ward,” he said pointedly.

“Good night, Sir. And…” Lauren paused, a small smile making its way to her lips. “Thank you…for everything.”

She opened the door and ducked through it, missing the unreadable look that followed her words of gratitude. Very few had ever given Severus Snape a sincere word of thanks.

~oOo~

Soon Christmas Eve was upon them in a matter of days. The Great Hall was decorated in a plethora of garishness, with bright colorful tinsel draped across every available surface, strategically placed mistletoe hanging and waiting for unsuspecting passerby’s, and baubles of every imaginable color charmed to float over their heads as the student ate.

As if that wasn’t enough, Hagrid had set up twelve enormous Fir trees in the Great Hall, each adorned with Christmassy adornments and topped with either figures of angels or brightly lit stars. Overall, the Christmas spirit was truly alive and well here, if not a tad bit overdone.

The same couldn’t be said for Snape’s classroom or his study. The festivities from upstairs was noticeably absent down here in the dungeons, with only the pickled jars to offer them any Christmas cheer.

Lauren was once more in the Potion’s classroom, attempting to brew the Pepper-Up Potion yet again. Snape’s perfectionist nature was coming to the forefront, much to Lauren’s consternation.

But she had to admit that the extra lessons, as well as putting up with Severus’ mercurial attitude, had been well worth it. The potion now simmering in her cauldron had turned a swirling shade of Aruba blue, indicating that it had been correctly brewed. The subtle scent of rosemary was another hint.

Snape held the glass vial up to eye level, studying it with a critical eye. Lauren held her breath as she awaited his verdict.

“It’s a considerable improvement from you first attempt,” he finally muttered, placing the vial carefully on the counter.

This, coming from Snape, was almost considered a compliment, and Lauren couldn’t help but swell with pride. Especially when she had glimpsed a pleased smile flitter across his face before he quickly hid it.

Lauren glanced at her wristwatch, noting that it was almost ten thirty at night. In a few short hours it would be Christmas morning.

“Can I ask a favor, Professor?” she enquired, watching as Snape dispensed the contents of her cauldron into vials. The fact that he was choosing to keep this batch (probably to be given to Madam Pomfrey for her to administer to her sick patients), showed that he considered it worthy. Snape would never accept sub-par brews - this she knew for a fact.

“Depends…” he replied as he corked the vial clutched in his hand.

Lauren reached into the depths of her coat pocket and produced a brightly wrapped package, holding it out towards Snape. He glanced at the parcel, a blank look shuttering over his features.

“Could you please have an owl deliver this to Tracey in the morning? I would do it myself, but I don’t have an owl and, unless you know a secret passage that leads to the Owlery, I don’t want to risk going there alone,” she explained.

Snape regarded her for a moment, and Lauren thought he was going to refuse.

“Put it on my desk on your way out,” he ordered, plucking up another vial and filling it. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but he had just dismissed Lauren.

“Thank you,” she breathed out, heading towards the door to his study. She paused with her hand curled around the door handle, glancing over her shoulder at the mysterious wizard thoroughly engrossed in his task. “Merry Christmas, Sir,” she called out.

Snape didn’t bother to turn around, but his words floated clearly back to her.

“It’s not Christmas yet, Miss Ward.”

Lauren rolled her eyes at his stale attitude and entered his study. She made her way to his neat and orderly desk and placed the package for Tracey upon it. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she reached into her coat pocket and produced another festively wrapped gift. She placed this one beside the other one, the label visible and the message clear to see: _Merry Christmas, Professor Snape. From Lauren._

The gift in question was a rather fetching quill of a shimmering Spring green hue. When Lauren had seen it in one of the storefronts in Diagon Alley, she had immediately thought of Snape and knew she had to get it for him. It was an impulsive buy, but nothing extravagant or personal that it would offend him.

With the gift came a new bottle of bright red ink, along with a snarky note saying: _Seeing as you go through so much red ink shredding our essays to pieces, I thought you could do with a refill._

Before she could second guess herself, Lauren left hastily through the secret passage and headed back to her dorm.

~oOo~

The next morning Lauren awoke to find a single parcel on her bed, something that surprised her for she hadn’t been expecting any gifts. She blearily glanced at the tag and cracked a smile. It was from Tracey.

Her smile quickly faded, however, when she tore open the wrapping depicting cartoonish Santa Clause’s and saw that it was a homework planner. Lauren scowled down at the offending gift, wondering how on earth she had managed to befriend the Slytherin version of Hermione Granger.

Lauren picked up the planner with every intention of shoving it into the dark recesses of her trunk, or flinging it into the fireplace, but paused when a note fluttered down onto her lap.

_The homework planner was for a laugh – I know you have no intentions of ever using it. Your real gift is underneath it. Merry Christmas, Lauren. Love Tracey._

Lauren shook her head but was smiling, nonetheless. Tracey really had a warped sense of humor. Tossing the already hated planner over her shoulder, Lauren turned her attention back to the package and saw another book nestled amongst the tissue paper.

She gingerly plucked it out, imagining a schedule planner that would shrilly command the owner to finish certain tasks, or something along those lines.

Instead, she held in her hand a book titled: _Charms and Spells for Everyday Use._

She flicked through the crisp pages, her excitement mounting when she realized that these spells, though simple, were actually quite useful, and she decided right there and then to start practicing them in her free time.

Lauren spent the rest of the day immersed in Tracey’s book, as well as a few others she had purchased, as she sat in front of the roaring fire in the Common Room, the platter on table beside her magically refilling itself with pies and treats.

Soon evening was upon them and Lauren made her way to the Great Hall, seating herself at the achingly empty Slytherin table.

The house-elves had really outdone themselves with the Christmas feast. The dishes were laden with roasted turkey smothered in cranberry sauce, glazed chicken trickled with rich brown gravy, scalloped potatoes in a creamy mushroom sauce, dressing, baby carrots cooked to sweet perfection, and freshly baked buns smothered in butter.

Lauren’s mouth practically watered at the sight and she immediately dug in, loading her plate with a heaping of each dish.

As she ate in silence, she glanced up at the staff table. Predictably, Severus was the only one decked out in his customary black, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other teachers who were dressed in brightly festive clothes. His head was ducked as he concentrated on eating, but Lauren had the feeling he was avoiding her gaze.

Lauren shrugged. She hadn’t really expected any sort of acknowledgement from him either way, but she was curious as to whether he liked his gift or not.

Once dinner was heartily consumed, dessert appeared on the table - by which time most of the teachers were considerably drunk, if the silly giggles and goofy singing were anything to go by. Lauren smothered her grin as she noticed that Snape was the only one who didn’t appear intoxicated and was sitting there with a look of deep derision plastered on his pale features. By the looks of it, he was mentally counting down the time when he could escape back to the sanctity and peace of his dungeons.

Lauren finished her chocolate malt cake and decided it was time to leave when Hagrid started singing very loudly. He was swaying dangerously on his chair as he rocked from side to side, slopping the contents of his goblet all over the table, as well as the unfortunate teachers seated on either side of him.

Her belly now full of delicious food that was making her considerably drowsy, Lauren decided to call it an early night. Snape had told her the previous night that he would be in no mood to conduct a private lesson with her today, and after witnessing the ‘festivities’ at the staff table, Lauren couldn’t much blame him. She greatly suspected that he was getting privately drunk in his room round about now.

Lauren made her way to her room and dressed in warm fuzzy pajamas. Making her way to her bed, she paused when she noticed a parcel on her pillow, wrapped neatly in emerald green wrapping.

Lauren picked it up and sat on the edge of her bed as she carefully unwrapped it. A small frown furrowed her brows when she glimpsed a note lying on top of a clearly used book.

_This might be…enlightening…S._

The spiky handwriting was a dead giveaway that this gift was from none other than Severus Snape himself.

Lauren blinked out of her shock and glanced over at the book, noting the title: _A guide to Poisons and Antidotes._

Her frown deepened.

_Why would Snape think that learning to brew poisons and antidotes would be useful to me?_

Lauren picked up the well-read book and flipped it over, her eyes widening when she saw who the author was.

Bethany Anne Ward.

Lauren gasped, and after a stunned silence she raised a shaky hand and traced her finger over the picture of her ‘ancestor’.

The resemblance was uncanny, even Lauren had to admit it. Though the image was black and white, there was no mistaking that Bethany possessed the same long wavy brunette hair as Lauren. And, if the image had been in color, Lauren would have bet all the gold in her vault that she had the same midnight blue eyes as herself.

Bethany, though older in this picture, was a striking woman with almond shaped eyes, a pert narrow nose and high distinguished cheek bones. In this photo she wore a high collared Victorian styled dress, and Lauren was struck by the fact that Bethany, it would seem, was the product of high breeding – something Lauren was most decidedly not.

But in those eyes twinkled a defiant nature and wild streak, as well as sharp intelligence, and Lauren was in no doubt that Bethany, whilst alive, had had a mind of her own and had done as she pleased - blatantly disregarding all oppressive rules of society.

Lauren turned the book over and gingerly opened it, letting out another gasp when she saw in the upper left-hand corner the words: _Property of Severus Snape._

Snape had just given her a book from his personal library – a testament in itself. But this was not just any book. This was a book that tied her to her ancestry here.

Tears pricked Lauren’s eyes. Snape, though he may not have known it, had just given her a truly an exceptional gift – one that meant more to her than he could have ever guessed.


	15. Chapter 15

Lauren was once more in the Potion’s classroom, working on now trying to concoct a simple healing salve.

Today marked the last of their daily lessons, now that the Christmas holidays were drawing to an end. By the time the sun would dip below the horizon, the Hogwarts Express would pull up to Hogsmeade Station, bringing with it the returning students that would once more encompass the castle. There would be little to no opportunity from here on out for Lauren to sneak out through the secret passage; not with her fellow Slytherins, who viewed the Common Room as a meeting place of sorts, congregating there until late into the night, either to finish homework or socialize.

With the end of her lessons with Snape in sight came a sense of disheartenment. For the first time in her life Lauren found that not only did she have potential, but her potential was actually being recognized. And with this knowledge came confidence and, in a weird twisted way, a sense of belonging – traits that had been very foreign to her in her old life. She had never felt like any skillsets she possessed were of any value. With Potions, it was the opposite. Knowing how to brew potions was a very valuable skillset to possess in this world.

And Lauren knew that she had Severus to thank for his subtle aid that had guided her to this point of acceptance.

At the thought of her dark Professor, Lauren cast a surreptitious glance at Snape, who was lazily pacing about his classroom, his hands clasped behind his back.

Unsurprisingly, both had chosen to ignore their gift exchange over the Christmas holidays, barely even acknowledging that such an event had occurred. Though, when Lauren had entered his study the day after Christmas, she had spied the quill and bottle of red ink perched upon his desk, patiently waiting to be put to good use – which would, unfortunately, mean that the essays of the poor souls of Hogwarts would soon be shredded with the bright red scathing insults in the coming weeks. Hers included.

It wasn’t that Lauren didn’t want to thank Severus for his gift. She just didn’t know how. And Snape, by the looks of it, didn’t know how to express his gratitude either, or maybe was uncomfortable in doing so.

So both were choosing to carry on as normal. Well, normal for them at any rate. Anyone who witnessed their interactions would assume that they despised each other, if their sniping and barely veiled insults were anything to go by. But this was the nature of their ‘friendship’ – Snape would growl a scathing retort at her, and Lauren would fire back with equal venom. Admittedly, Lauren rather enjoyed these exchanges, and suspected that Snape did as well.

“Careful, Miss Ward, otherwise your salve is going to turn into burnt, lumpy sludge,” Snape drawled as he examined one of the bottles of pickled dead things surrounding his classroom, not even looking in her direction. He may have seemed deceptively occupied, but Snape was always aware of his surroundings.

Lauren’s gaze shot back to the thickening salve within her cauldron and, seeing that he was right, she quickly added a few drops of lavender oil, giving it a final stir before extinguishing the flame beneath.

Snape made his way over to her table, bending at the waist as he visually examined the salve within her cauldron. Lauren watched as he picked up a silver spoon and scooped up a spoonful of the thick olive-green ointment.

“What can you tell me about Bethany Ward?” Lauren asked, more to fill the silence.

Severus was quiet for a moment, his dark gaze still eyeing the salve that he now held up to eye level.

“What do you want to know?” he murmured.

Lauren paused. _What did she really want to know? She didn’t have a clue. _“When did she die?”

Snape frowned as he sniffed the salve, his concentration absolute. Then he raised his other hand and scooped a small amount onto his index finger, rubbing his thumb and finger together as he tested the consistency.

“Close to twenty-five years ago,” he finally replied.

“How did she die?” Lauren asked, bending over her workstation and resting her elbows on the wooden surface, her hands clasped in front on her as she eyed at him with burning curiosity.

“Why don’t you just go and look up the information yourself? I’m not your personal encyclopedia,” he snapped, straightening to his full height.

“I can’t go to the library, remember,” she pointed out. “By the way, what’s the verdict on my salve?”

Snape met her enquiring gaze with a condescending one of his own. “Exceeds expectations,” he drawled out reluctantly, placing the spoon back on the counter.

Lauren grinned widely at him. “Careful…that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Snape’s lips curled in disdain.

“So how did she die?” she pressed.

Snape crossed his arms in front of him, cradling his elbow in his hand as he tapped his bottom lip with his index finger. “Many expected her to die at her own hands as Bethany Ward was known to test out her antidotes on herself.”

Lauren’s eyes bulged as the meaning of what he was saying hit her. “What?! She intentionally poisoned herself?”

“Yes.”

Lauren shook her head, thinking that her ‘ancestor’ must have been absolutely bonkers. Brilliant, if Lauren understood a fraction of what had been written in Bethany’s book, but bonkers, nonetheless.

“So…?” she finally asked, somewhat hesitantly. Lauren was envisioning a painful demise, especially if poison was involved.

“Bethany Ward died of old age, disappointing as that may be to hear.”

Lauren nodded to herself, relieved. “Was she really as exceptional as what everyone makes her out to be?”

“I wouldn’t have had her book in my personal collection if she hadn’t been extraordinary,” Severus pointed out sardonically.

And there it was – the silent acknowledgement that he had given her the book as a gift, but he had phrased in such a way that Lauren could choose to ignore it. Or acknowledge it.

As Lauren peered at him, she noted a stiffness to the way he was holding himself, almost as though he were bracing himself for the uncomfortable thanks that he did not wish for her to give.

Lauren decided it best to settle on a more tactical approach. “Point taken. The book is a riveting read.” _There, that’s a sly way of telling him I like his gift._ “Though, some of the theories and potions mentioned in the book are very complex and a bit difficult to understand.”

“It would be, especially at your level of education,” Snape replied, his posture fractionally relaxing. “As your school years advance and you are introduced to the more intricate portion of potion making, you will be able to grasp Bethany Ward’s written text more easily. In time you may even be able to apply some her theories yourself. Incidentally, we will be studying some of her works during your sixth and seventh year classes.”

Lauren felt a thrill of excitement at learning this and opened her mouth to ask another question, but Snape cut her off.

“It’s time for you to leave.”

Lauren felt slightly stung by his abrupt dismissal.

“In an hour’s time we shall be plagued with the presence of the dunderheads I have the misfortune of teaching,” he elaborated, his tone bitter.

Lauren glanced down at her watch, realizing that Severus was, indeed, correct. She turned to leave, but paused, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “When will our next lesson be, sir?”

Snape regarded her, the seconds ticking by. “I’ll let you know,” he finally replied, motioning with his long-fingered hand for her to go.

Once in her room Lauren cleaned up and dressed in clean clothes.

And then she waited. Which was not one of her stronger traits.

After a few moments she found herself lying on her bed, perusing the book from Tracey. It contained the simple spells and charms of _Wingardium Leviosa,_ _Lumos, and Accio; _spells that they were currently working on this year at school. But there were other spells, such as _Colloportus _(a charm to lock doors), _Evanesco _(used to vanish objects), or _Protego, _the Shield Charm, all of which they had still yet to learn. There were other more advanced spells that went beyond her current skill level, but Lauren was determined to learn what she could.

An hour passed and the door to the room Pansy, Millicent and Daphne strode in, chatting animatedly to each other. They were followed shortly after by Tracey, who was her usual quiet self.

Lauren grinned at her little shadow and, completely ignoring the others, she hopped off her bed and went over to her, enveloping Tracey in a hug.

After a moment’s hesitation, Tracy hugged her back. It was rare for Lauren to display affection.

Pulling apart, Tracey eyed her speculatively. “You must have been very bored to have missed me this much,” she remarked dryly.

Lauren gave a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, yes.”

Tracey cracked a smile and deposited her bag on her bed. “Oh, thank you for the necklace. I love it.”

Tracey had once offhandedly remarked that her favorite animal was a cat and during her excursion of Diagon Alley, Lauren had come across and a thin silver chained necklace with a pendant of a cat dangling from it. It was the perfect gift for Tracey, Lauren had decided right there and then.

“You’re welcome,” murmured Lauren. “Your book has been very useful as well. Thank you.”

“Out of curiosity, what did you do with the homework planner?”

Lauren glance guiltily up at the ceiling, where the planner was now currently stuck. A dark scorch mark could be seen brandished upon the cover.

Tracey followed her gaze and gawped at the sight. Finally she dragged her eyes away and eyed Lauren with a look that could only be described as a mixture between exasperation and incredulity. “How did you get it stuck up there?”

Lauren shrugged. “No idea. I was using it as target practice and it kinda got stuck on the ceiling.”

“Any idea how to get it down?” Tracey asked after a pause.

“Nope. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. I don’t want to see that blasted thing again!”

Tracey suddenly grinned and shook her head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Come on, let’s go to dinner. I’m starving!”

They made their way to the Great Hall, Tracey recounting her Christmas to Lauren quite animatedly.

Arriving at the Slytherin table they settled down and loaded their plates with a heaping helping from the mouth-watering dishes laid out on the table. The rest of the seats soon filled up as students arrived for dinner.

“So how was your Christmas?” Tracey asked, cutting up her pork chop into perfect mouth-sized pieces.

Lauren shrugged. “Dumbledore took me to the Ministry. Apparently, I’m the long-lost descendant of Bethany Anne Ward.”

A little way down the table Draco raised his head at her proclamation, now giving the conversation between the two oblivious girls his full attention.

“_The _Bethany Anne Ward?” Tracey asked, awe apparent in her voice.

“Unless you know of another Bethany Anne Ward, then yes,” Lauren remarked, eating some mashed potatoes and gravy.

Tracey blinked. “Wow. Just…wow. Do you know how amazing that is? Bethany Ward was –.”

“- One of the most accomplished Potion Mistresses of her time. Yeah, I know,” Lauren finished.

“Well…yeah.” Tracey eyed her, almost as though she were seeing her for the first time. “Though, it does explain a lot, really.”

“How do you figure?” Lauren asked.

“You really do have a talent for potion brewing. You must have inherited that from her.”

“Maybe.” Lauren couldn’t very well explain to Tracey that she was not from this world and therefore there was no way in hell that she could possibly be related to this Bethany Anne Ward. It was impossible.

_But is it? _a sneaky voice inside her head asked.

“Do you know much about her?” Lauren asked Tracey.

Tracey looked thoughtful. “Not really. Maybe we can find some more info in the library.”

“Why am I not surprised that the first thing you thought of was the library,” Lauren remarked.

Tracey shot her a grin and all further conversation about the mysterious Bethany Anne Ward was soon forgotten as they finished their dinner.

~oOo~

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Lauren barely had time to miss her private lessons with Snape as her other teachers seemed to be of one mind, handing out homework and assignments left, right and center – Snape the forerunner of them all. He was ruthless when it came to homework.

That Saturday Lauren and Tracey decided the head down to the library to do some research on some of their essays, as most of them were due on Monday. As they reached the high arched doors leading to the library, Tracey halted, rummaging in her bag. She let out an exasperated groan.

“I forgot my Transfiguration essay. I’ll just go back and get it quickly.”

Lauren nodded and entered the Library, noting that there were at least a dozen students seated at the spaced out tables, their eyes glued to the open books before them and their quills scratching on the parchment as they wrote. A few more students were wandering the aisles, searching for the books they required.

Lauren selected an empty table and slung her bookbag over the chair. Glancing at her notes, she proceeded to find the books they would need for their homework. Heading back to their table, Lauren frowned when she noticed that Tracey still was not back.

Movement from outside the open library doors caught her eye and, laying the books on the table, Lauren cautiously made her way to entrance to investigate.

And what she saw made her blood boil.

Three older students - fourth years by the looks of it - had Tracey cornered. The red embellished on their robes gave them away as belonging to Gryffindor.

“Just leave me alone,” Tracey murmured, trying to duck around one of the boys, who swiftly stepped sideways to block her way.

“Or what?” another boy jeered. His mousy brown hair was combed neatly to the side and reminded Lauren of a high school jock; arrogant and pretentious. “Nobody’s here to protect you. And who would want to defend a snake such as yourself?”

The other two boys sniggered, and Tracey was starting to look very much afraid.

“Please,” Tracey whispered, trying once more to step around them. The brown-haired boy shoved her back, almost causing her to trip and fall.

“Oi! Leave her alone!” Lauren bellowed, pushing away from the entranceway and marching towards the gang, her hands clenched tightly into fists.

The boys turned around and guffawed amusedly at the petite little first-year storming towards them.

“Oh look! Another little slithering, slimy snake. What are you going to do? Cry?” jeered a boy with sunlit blonde hair.

“I bet we can make her cry,” Brown-haired Jock taunted, stepping forward.

Lauren did not slow her pace as she neared him. His grey eyes were glinting amusedly as he noted her clenched fists at her side.

Lauren closed the distance between them and grabbed the front of his robes. The boy was momentarily confused by this action, and she used that to her advantage. Raising her knee, Lauren swiftly kicked him in the groin.

His loud moan of pain was satisfactory as he crumpled to the floor, clutching his nether regions. His face had turned a blotchy red and was a contorted mask of pain.

The other two boys looked at each other, shocked by what had just happened, and then with an outraged cry, they both charged Lauren.

All three toppled to the stone floor, rolling around in tangled heap of limbs. There was a lot of clawing, scratching, biting, hair pulling and cussing (mostly from Lauren). Rage fueled her, making her almost feral in her attack, and she was dimly aware that Tracey was screaming her name in the background.

Lauren was giving as good as she was getting, this not being the first fight she had ever gotten into. The metallic taste in her mouth told her that she had at least a split lip, amongst other injuries, but judging by the cries of pain ringing out, the boys weren’t coming out of this unscathed either.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms snaked around her middle and roughly yanked her away from the boys.

Lauren struggled violently, thrashing against Severus as she tried to get free and resume the fight. She was out for blood.

Her magic flared up like a raging hurricane at their close contact, but Lauren’s sights were set on the boys like a rabid animal intent on getting its prey, unable to focus on anything else. The three were now on their feet and slowly backing away; from her or Snape she could not tell.

_No, they going to get away scotch free! _her mind screamed.

Then in the misty haze of her blinding fury, an idea came to Lauren with crystal clear clarity.

Reaching into her pocket, she swiftly withdrew her wand and, before Snape could cotton on to what she was intending to do, Lauren concentrated on her magic, using it to call Severus’ to the surface.

Their magic collided like two waves crashing together and Lauren channeled their combined magic through to her wand. Her eyes were narrowed into slits and she gritted her teeth as she concentrated on harnessing the intense power.

“Stupefy!” she screamed.

The spell surged through her wand, making it vibrate with the sheer force of it, and hit all three boys, sending them flying through the air.

Lauren watched, a feral grin plastered on her face as they hit the opposite wall and crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

“You try and hurt Tracey again and I’ll make you sorry, you motherless goats of all motherless goat fu -!”

Her curse was cut short as Lauren found herself suddenly immobilized. Almost as though invisible strings were attached to her, Lauren felt her body being raised up, and slowly she rotated around so that she now faced Snape.

And he was absolutely livid.

There was no other word to describe the pitted fury contorting his pale features.

“You!” he snarled, pointing at a Gryffindor boy who stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to watch the show. The boy’s eyes widened with fear at being addressed, and Lauren swore he turned a shade paler. “Find Professor McGonagall and have her deal with them,” Snape ordered, nudging his head sharply in the direction of the three fallen boys behind them.

The boy hastily nodded and scampered away, running as fast as his feet could carry him.

Severus turned his attention to his next target. “Miss Farley!” he snapped.

Gemma, the Slytherin prefect, stepped forward with trepidation.

“Take Miss Davis back to her room.” Snape didn’t wait for a reply and turned sharply to address the rest of the crowd. “As for the rest of you, unless you all wish to personally serve detention with me for the rest of the year, I suggest you leave. Now!”

The crowd instantly scattered.

Snape glanced over his shoulder at Lauren, a baleful glare directed squarely at her. It was a look that did not promise anything good.

Flicking his wand, Lauren suddenly zoomed towards him, almost as though an invisible string was pulling her. Snape turned on his heel and marched down the corridor, Lauren floating immobilized behind him. As they passed the open library doors, Lauren’s heart froze at the sight of a bright turban ducking quickly out of sight. Quirrell, she realized with a jolt, had just witnessed everything.

Lauren tried to struggle against the invisible restraints that held her, but it was as though her body had been frozen. She couldn’t neither move nor make a sound.

Snape made his way down to the dungeons, any passing students giving them a very wide berth at the thunderous look on the dark Professor’s face.

They reached his classroom and Snape headed straight to the door of his study. He gave a sharp flick of his wrist, causing the door to bang open and marched inside, the door slamming behind them with a resounding bang.

Lauren hung suspended in the air in the middle of the room, unable to do anything.

Whirling around, his black robes billowing at the movement, Snape eyed her, his obsidian eyes glinting dangerously. With another sharp flick of his wand, he sent her careening into a chair with such force that it nearly toppled over.

Before Lauren could even so much as blink, Snape was suddenly in front of her, his nose inches away from her own. He was gripping the armrests with such force that his knuckles were turning white.

“What the _fuck _were you thinking?!” he hissed.

Even without the immobilizing spell, Lauren would have been stunned into silence at hearing Severus swear.

“Do you want to get expelled?” he spat. His body practically thrummed with pent-up fury as he loomed over her.

All Lauren could do was stare at him, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly that surely Snape must have heard it.

Snape glared at her and then suddenly pushed away with such force that he nearly sent her chair, along with her in it, toppling over.

He stepped back and folded his arms in front of him, scowling venomously at her. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply, trying to reel in his temper. The seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes. Coming to a decision, Snape withdrew his wand and pointed it at her.

“Speak,” he commanded, dropping his hand to his side.

Lauren tried to stand but found that she was now immobilized from the neck down. Her head snapped up and she glared up at Snape.

“Unbind me,” she snarled.

“No,” he stated, his tone ominous.

Lauren struggled to break free from her invisible restraints, but it was useless.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“I was defending my friend!” she snapped. “Those boys deserved what they got.”

“I’m not talking about them. I really couldn’t care less how many infuriating Gryffindors you choose to hex.”

Lauren paused in her struggle and glanced at him, her eyes widening in surprise at his admission. By the dark glower still being directed at her, though, Lauren knew that she was still in very deep trouble.

“No,” he continued, his tone strained and his body taut with tension. “What I care about is that you used my magic against my will.”

_Fuck!_

Lauren knew right there and then she was heading up shit creek without a paddle. Snape was not someone you crossed, at least not without a death wish. And she had definitely crossed the line with him with that little stunt.

Lauren’s heart started beating frantically in her chest, righteous anger fast being replaced by curling dread.

“I should…” he growled, drawing out each syllable with painful precision.

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the loud pounding on his door.

“Severus! Let me in!” a stern Scottish voice commanded from the other side.

Snape clenched his jaw, the frown furrowing his brows deepening. The banging resumed with renewed force and, with an incensed growl, Severus strode to the door and yanked it open forcefully.

Without invitation, Professor McGonagall pushed past him and entered the study. Her features were set in a derisive scowl to rival even Snape’s.

“Minerva,” Snape greeted through clenched teeth. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Her sharp eyes landed on Lauren and she stuttered to a halt at the sight of Lauren and her bruised and battered face. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, her lips forming a thin line of disapproval.

“What happened?” she asked, turning to face Snape.

“Three of your lovely Gryffindors is what happened,” Snape replied, closing the door. Minerva must have shot him a look because Snape decided to elaborate. “The three boys in question had one of my first-year’s cornered and when Miss Ward stepped in, they decided to turn their…_attention _on her instead.”

Minerva glanced back briefly at Lauren. She blinked behind her glasses and turned her attention back to Snape. “She sent all three of them to the Hospital Wing with serious concussions, Severus,” she stated.

“Good. I hope they come out of it having learnt a valuable lesson,” he snapped back.

“Severus -.”

“No, Minerva. It was three against one. I hardly call that a fair fight. They got what they deserved.”

The two Professors stood facing each other, defiant stubbornness etched on each of their features.

Finally McGonagall relented. “I agree that what they did was unacceptable, but…”

“But nothing. I am currently dealing with the situation as I see fit. Pray tell, Minerva, what are you planning on doing with your three wayward Gryffindors?”

Her nostrils flared as she glared back at him. Finally McGonagall ground out, “I’ll deal with it.”

“Good. Now get out,” he snapped.

Lauren’s eyes widened at the exchange.

Professor McGonagall let out a tired sigh. “I’m sorry this happened to one of your Slytherins, Severus, and I will make sure the boys are appropriately punished.”

Severus eyed her for a moment and then gave a stiff nod of his head.

McGonagall cast one last look at Lauren and then squared her shoulders, striding out of the room. Snape shut the door and stood there for a moment, staring at it before finally turning around slowly to face Lauren.

She must have looked like a gaping fish, for Snape remarked dryly, “You look speechless, Miss Ward.”

“You…you stood up for me.”

The statement, though simple, held a lot of weight behind it.

Snape regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “Personally, I think you were in the right, Miss Ward.”

Lauren looked away from his penetrating gaze. “I’ve…never had anyone stick up for me before…” she admitted, her words but a whisper.

There was a poignant poise and then she suddenly felt the spell being lifted from her body. Lauren slouched in the chair and rubbed tiredly at her forehead, wincing as she touched a particularly nasty bruise.

Snape glided into her field of vision and stood there regarding her.

“About your punishment…”

Lauren slowly raised her eyes to peer up at him, silently waiting for his verdict.

“Don’t ever pull that stunt again,” he warned as he glared down at her.

Lauren stared at him, knowing he was referring to her combining their magic. Snape was very much wary of it as she was. Power like that was unpredictable and could easily consume a person without conscious thought, taking control entirely. The casters would be left in nothing but the ashes of the destruction it could wield if not carefully handled.

She gave a single nod of assent.

Snape inhaled deeply through his nose as he came to a decision. “Detention every Friday after class.”

Lauren gave another stiff nod. Personally, she had expected nothing less.

Snape was silent for a moment and then he turned abruptly on his heel and strode over to the cupboard that housed his personal supply of potions. He returned with a container and a vial clutched in his hands and held it out for Lauren.

Lauren raised a questioning brow.

“A healing salve and potion,” he stated, his gaze pointedly drifting over the plains of her face. “You’re going to need them.”

Lauren grimaced. “Does it look bad?” she asked, accepting his offerings.

“Yes,” he replied truthfully.

“Fantastic,” she muttered sarcastically as she rose stiffly to her feet, all the aches and pains from the fight now coming to the forefront, and pocketed the salve and potion.

“If it’s any consolation, those boys looked the worse for wear.” Was it her imagination or did she glimpse a spark of approval in his eyes? “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

Lauren shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “I was bullied a lot as a kid and teen. I had to learn to fight dirty.”

The silence that followed was thick. Finally Snape spoke up. “I’ll escort you back to your dormitory.”

The walk back was long and silent. When they reached the door to the Slytherin Common Room, Snape nudged his head, indicating for her to go in. He was still angry, she could tell, and probably would remain so for quite some time. But even angry, he was still trying to help her.

Lauren pressed her lips together and pushed open the door, making sure to close it securely behind her.

She turned around and froze. Almost all the Slytherins had congregated in the Common Room, and they were all staring at her. An awkward dead silence rang out throughout the room, and Lauren had to resist the urge to fling open the door and run away.

“Did you really knock out those three Gryffindors with a Stupefy spell?” Pansy asked, stepping forward.

Lauren eyed her suspiciously, but finally gave a stiff nod of her head.

Pansy whistled softly. “Impressive.”

There was a murmur of agreement all around and Lauren blinked in surprise. Not only did her fellow Slytherins approve of her actions but were supportive as well.

Hidden in the throng of students, Draco was studying her meditatively; shrewd cunning glinting in his ice blue eyes.

“Where’s Tracey?” Lauren asked once the murmuring had died down. She really needed to check on the other girl and make sure she was alright.

“In our room waiting for you to get back,” Daphne supplied, flicking her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder.

Lauren didn’t wait for any more questions to be asked and hastily made her way to their dorm room.

She found Tracey sitting on the edge of her bed and at Lauren’s entrance, her head snapped up. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand when she saw the state of Lauren’s face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, rising to her feet, her hand dropping down to her side.

“It looks worse than what it actually is,” Lauren assured in an offhanded manner.

Remembering the stuff Snape had given her, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the vial of healing potion. She uncorked it and downed the potion in one gulp. Almost immediately the aches and pains subsided substantially.

Lauren made her way over to her bed and sat down heavily.

“Professor Snape…looked so angry,” Tracey started, coming to sit down next to Lauren.

Lauren shrugged, reaching for the salve in her pocket. “He was. Still is. I have detention every Friday.”

“For how long?”

“Knowing Snape, indefinitely.”

“Oh Lauren! I’m so sorry,” Tracey exclaimed, looking close to tears.

“Whatever for?”

“If it wasn’t for me none of this would have happened.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Tracey. You’re starting to sound like a bloody bleeding-heart Gryffindor. No, it’s those bullies that are to blame.”

Lauren unscrewed the cap of the container; the scent of spearmint permeating her senses.

“I heard that they’re now awake and quite shaken up.” Lauren remained silent at Tracey’s statement. She reached inside the drawer of the bedside table, searching for a mirror.

Tracey took the salve from her hand. “Here, let me,” she said matter-of-factly.

Lauren remained still as Tracey applied the thick salve on the bruises and cuts on her face. Already the stinging was subsiding, as well as some of the swelling.

“I’ve never seen a Stupefy spell do something like…_that,_” Tracey murmured. “How did you do it?”

“No idea,” Lauren lied.

Tracey eyed her speculatively, sensing that Lauren wasn’t being entirely forthcoming, but let it drop. “Thank you…for standing up for me like that.”

“You’re my friend,” Lauren stated simply. And it was the truth. In a weird way, she had come to view Tracey as something like a little sister, their bond of friendship having now solidified over the course these short few months. Lauren, though ruthless at time, was loyal to a fault. She would fight to protect Tracey. No matter the cost.


	16. Chapter 16

News of what she had done to the three Gryffindors had spread through the school like wildfire and Lauren now found that her reputation had been upped to that of celebrity status. She was greeted rather enthusiastically by the rest of her House, who were undoubtedly very proud of their little spitfire Slytherin. The Gryffindors, on the other hand, were another matter.

Oddly enough, they had not appreciated what she had done to three of their own and were now resorting to shooting her venomous glares wherever possible. But as much as they now detested her, Lauren noted that they were being rather cautious around her and were keeping a safe distance. Having the reputation of being a mini-Snape, she thought with amusement, was working to her advantage.

And what was even more curious was that Draco was now acting downright civil towards her - well civil for him at least. Before, Draco and Lauren had come to a mutual understanding and had, for the most part, kept out of each other’s way. Now, however, when they passed each other or were in the same room, Draco would incline his head towards her in a respectful greeting. Lauren, admittedly, had been suspicious at first, but now she found herself nodding back. Draco had ulterior motives, no doubt, but Lauren decided she would wait it out and see what his game plan was.

But Draco wasn’t forefront on her mind at the moment.

Snape, notorious for holding a grudge, was ignoring her of late, which was unsurprising. Lauren had hoped that his attitude towards her would be different, though, especially since he had defended her actions. But now she could see how feeble that hope had been.

Severus practically radiated pent-up tension whenever he swept past her workstation during Potion lessons, not even once bothering to stop and glance in her cauldron to check on her brew. His features were set in a permanent scowl – which was not unusual in itself - but he was leaving no doubt in Lauren’s mind that he was still very much furious with her. And this knowledge stung more than it should have.

Friday’s Potion’s lesson drew to an end and as the students filed out of the classroom, Lauren remained seated at her desk, waiting for her detention to commence. Tracey squeezed her shoulder in encouragement, coupling the gesture with a sympathetic look before following the rest of her classmates out.

The door slammed shut behind the last retreating student, a bit of wandless and non-verbal magic cast by Severus, no doubt.

The silence that permeated the room was stifling and Lauren had to force herself not to fidget as her thoughts ran rampant. Severus had defended her, yes, but that didn’t mean he was going to be lenient with her, especially if her was still as angry as his attitude suggested.

Snape leaned back in his chair, steepling his long fingers in front of him as he glared at the surface of his desk. His features were set in a deep scowl, his eyes darker than usual and foretelling of a brewing storm beneath the surface.

As the minutes ticked by, he made no move, clearly in no hurry to break the silence. Lauren resisted squirming in her chair, for his reticence, she had fast learned, did not bode well.

Finally Severus slowly raised his head, his raven hair framing his place features and his dark eyes capturing Lauren’s in the spellbinding swirl of danger lurking in those obsidian depths.

“Last week’s escapade has brought to light some pressing issues,” he began, his deep silky voice filling every crevice of the room. Snape’s voice was his weapon and he could use it to wield all-consuming fear, curling dread or complete rapture. And right now his tone had her tensing up like a tightly coiled spring. “Tell me, Miss Ward,” he continued, rising to his feet in an unfurling of black. With unhurried movements, he rounded his desk and leaned back against the hard wood, staring down his nose at her as he folded his arms in front of him. “What do you consider to be your character flaws?”

Lauren had no idea where he was heading with this, but she knew that it was best to answer him, especially in his current mercurial mood.

“My…temper,” she ventured cautiously.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, glinting. “Go on.”

_Well shit…how much more does he want to know? I’d bet anything he already has a list drawn up._

Lauren breathed in deeply through her nose, willing herself to remain calm under his penetrating gaze. “I’m rash, quick-tempered, hot-headed and stubborn.”

Snape arched a brow at her quickly recited words.

Lauren lowered her gaze. “I’m well aware of my ‘flaws’, as you so aptly put it. They’ve been pointed out to me on more than one occasion.”

“How mature of you,” he drawled sarcastically. He paused, gauging her. When he spoke again, his voice held a hard edge to it. “Yet you lack the wisdom to rectify the very traits that continuously get you into trouble. I think you should add juvenility to your list of _shortcomings_,” he sneered.

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “Did you just call me immature?”

“For someone who continuously professes that she is an adult, your actions are that of a petulant child. So yes, I’m calling you immature, for lack of a better word.”

She glowered back at him. “There no point in in being grown up if one can’t act a little childish sometimes.” At Snape’s ensuing frown, Lauren elaborated. “It’s a Doctor Who quote.”

His frown deepened as he stared at her. Then, deciding to dismiss her statement, he continued. “Do you ever think before you act? Because I can guarantee you that not being able to keep a level head in a situation can often mean your death. You need to be able to focus and think clearly, especially in the war that is coming.”

Lauren straightened up in her chair. They were now drawing near to what he was really getting at.

“You need to learn to rein in your emotions, Miss Ward,” he continued.

“What exactly are you suggesting, Professor Snape?” she asked, dread curling in the pit of her stomach as she had a distinct idea of what he was about to advocate.

“I think it’s time for you to learn Occlumency.”

Lauren hated it when her suspicions were proved correct.

“No! Absolutely not. I refuse!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet and shaking her head vigorously.

Snape regarded her, a mixture of disdain and curiosity swirling in those obsidian depths. “What are you scared of, Miss Ward?”

Lauren paused, for Snape had hit the nail right on the head. She was scared.

“Besides having you rummaging around in my head…who would say no to something like that?” she asked with a bite of sarcasm. “Besides, you might see things you’re not supposed to.”

“You’re referring to your knowledge of future events.”

Lauren gave a nod, hoping that would be enough to deter him.

Snape unfolded his arms and clutched the edge of his desk either side of him. His eyes narrowed as he countered her argument. “I am a highly accomplished Occlumens, Miss Ward. Not some dundering novice who doesn’t have a clue. I can assure you that I will not search out, neither inadvertently nor intentionally, information regarding Harry Potter and the future of the wizarding world.”

_Shit, he’s not going to let this drop._

Lauren shook her head. “No.”

Snape pushed away from his desk and strode towards her, the workstation the only barrier separating them. He leaned forward; his palms planted firmly upon the surface of the workstation.

“What are you afraid of, Miss Ward?” he demanded, his dark gaze boring into her, searching for an answer.

Lauren pressed her lips tightly together, backing away as she shook her head from side to side.

Snape slowly straightened to his full height. “Tell me.”

Again Lauren shook her head in refusal.

“Tell me now or I might be tempted to delve into your mind and seek out the answer myself,” he stated, his tone dripping with dark promise.

Lauren’s eyes widened at the threat. “You wouldn’t!”

“I’m angry enough with you at the moment that I am quit tempted to do so.”

It was then that Lauren realized how wrong she had been about Snape. He lived by his own code of conduct, yes, but the lines between right and wrong were blurred sometimes when it came to him. And right now, the lines were very blurred indeed.

“You’ll learn thing about me that I don’t want you to know,” she blurted out.

“Then we shall be even,” he sneered back.

Lauren blinked as the true nature of his intentions became clear. In a sick, twisted way this was her punishment for using his magic without his permission.

Oh, he was phrasing it as wanting to teach her to control her emotions and be as mentally prepared for the upcoming war as she could be, but he also intended for this to be humiliating for her.

“Now clear your mind,” he commanded.

“What?! No! Wait!”

Her protests fell on deaf ears and suddenly Snape was inside of her mind without warning. Lauren didn’t even have time to put up any mental barriers, nor clear her mind sufficiently enough.

Suddenly memories flashed before her very eyes in a blur…

_…Lauren was young in this memory, maybe about five-years-old. She was curled into a ball under the thin covers of her bed, shaking from cold and hunger…_

The memory faded and suddenly she was launched into another one.

_….She was playing with a threadbare toy bunny rabbit under the kitchen table, humming quietly to herself. The kitchen, though clean, resembled a home that had endured poverty. The table, which memory-Lauren was playing under, was cheap and rickety and the fridge in the corner, if opened, would hold very little food within it. Unless you counted beer as a staple. _

_Suddenly raised voices could be heard from the other room, causing Lauren’s head to snap up and her youthful eyes to widen in fear. The sound of a ringing slap echoed throughout the house…_

The memory zoomed away and was replaced by another.

_…Lauren was walking home from school. Her shoes were worn and almost too small for her feet. It was a crisp Autumn day, bright yellow, red and orange leaves blanketing the gravel path. She was wearing a coat that was obviously second-hand and frayed._

_Suddenly she clutched the back of her head, a cry of pain escaping her lips, and whirled around, spying a gang of older kids from her school trailing behind her. They were tossing pebbles in the air, cruel intent gleaming in their eyes. _

_“Raggedy Anne, come and play,” they taunted._

_The pebbles started to fly in her direction. Lauren ran as fast as she could to escape, but she suddenly stumbled and fell hard to the ground, the gravel scraping against her palms and knees. She tried to scramble to her feet but was yanked forcibly back down to the ground. Lauren struggled against her captors but was too small and weak. Then the kids tugged her to her feet and started shoving her around in the circle they had formed around her, jeering and laughing cruelly…_

The memory shifted and suddenly Lauren was flung into one where she was older, about ten…

…_Lauren was playing with the same plush bunny rabbit, though it was now dirtier and was missing a button eye. _

_She was sitting in the middle of her rather bare and gloomy bedroom, weak sunlight streaming in through the grimy window, though it was enough to shed light on the blossoming bruise cresting her cheek. _

_Suddenly a loud and obviously drunken male voice could be heard swearing downstairs. Lauren eyed the closed door with fear plainly written on her face, the pulse beating frantically in the side of her neck. She glanced around the room with wild desperation and then scrambled to her feet, hastily pushing the only piece of furniture in the room against the door – an insubstantial bedside table._

_Then she raced to the wardrobe and flung the door open. She paused and then dashed back for her toy bunny, which she had left lying on the floor in her haste. There’s the unmistakable sound of crashing furniture, punctuated by a woman’s scream, but that’s cut short by the sound of the loud slap that can be heard from even upstairs._

_Lauren dove into the wardrobe, where only a single coat and a pair of worn shoes reside, and hastily closed the door._

_The sound of heavy booted feet could be heard ascending the stairs. Lauren huddled in the corner of the closet, clutching her toy bunny tightly to her chest and clamping her hand tightly over her mouth to stop herself from making any noise. Even in the gloom, her silent tears could be seen flowing down her cheeks._

_The door crashed open and Lauren flinched visibly, unable to stop the cry of fear that escaped her lips…_

“Stop.” Her command penetrated through the memory like the cracking of a whip and almost immediately Snape retreated from her mind.

Lauren blinked as the memories faded away, realizing that she was back in the Potion’s classroom. She raised her hand dazedly to her cheek and her fingertips come away damp with her salty tears. She hadn’t even realized she had been crying.

Her gaze landed on Snape, who was standing before her looking markedly pale, and she thought she glimpsed regret lurking behind his eyes.

Lauren wanted to slap him with every fiber of her being.

“You unimaginable bastard,” she whispered.

Snape’s eyes focused on her, though it was clear that he hadn’t even heard her insult. “Was that your father?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

She could see him swallowing hard as he struggled to formulate his next question. “Did he…?” Was it her imagination or was Snape unable to complete the sentence?

“I wasn’t sexually abused, if that’s what you’re asking,” Lauren stated flatly. “My father much preferred using his belt and fists.”

Snape closed his eyes tightly at her admission, almost as though the thought of it was causing him physical pain. But Lauren was beyond caring.

“If you’re quite done having your bit of fun, I’m leaving.”

His eyes snapped open, his usually guarded features clearly reflecting guilt. But it was too late for apologies.

He opened his mouth, but Lauren cut him off rather viciously.

“No! I’m done playing your vindictive and cruel games, Severus Snape. You had no right! What you did was a violation. You broke my trust! I’m done,” she spat, whirling around and snatching up her schoolbag from the floor before storming out of the classroom, making sure to slam the door as hard as possible behind her.

That night her dreams were plagued with the memories she had fought so long and hard to forget – memories that Snape had dredged to the surface against her will.

She awoke with a gasp, clammy sweat clinging to her skin. Lauren blinked, her eyes adjusting to the gloom and was distinctly aware of the hard pounding of her heart in her chest. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed, cradling her head in her hands.

She would not cry. Not over the past. Not over that cruel bastard.

Lauren slowly lifted her gaze and stilled when she noticed a vial resting on her bedside table. A vial that hadn’t been there before she had crawled into bed.

She reached out and plucked it up, peering at the label: _Dreamless Sleep._

By the spidery handwriting, she knew the potion had come from Snape. A peace offering of sorts. A weak apology.

Anger unfurled in her chest, white-hot in intensity, and Lauren flung the vial against the opposite wall, shattering it. Startled yelps permeated the room as the other girls woke up with a start. Lauren shifted back into her bed, pulling the covers firmly over her head.

_How dare he!_

The dark was the only witness to the lone tear that trickled down her cheek, silent and unseen.

~oOo~

It was now Lauren giving Snape the cold shoulder, pretending he didn’t exist at all in the week that followed. She could feel his eyes trained on her during mealtimes and especially during her Potions classes, willing her to look up, look at him. But she was determined to hold onto her anger and refused to acknowledge him.

Inwardly she was seething. He had absolutely no right to do what he had done. He had crossed the line with her.

_Just as she had crossed the line with him…_

The irony – oh, the irony! – was not lost on her. Lauren had used his magic against his will just as Snape had used Occlumency on her against her will. They had both violated each other’s trust. But that didn’t make either of them right.

But Lauren was still too absorbed in her anger to contemplate much else except avoiding Snape altogether, although that couldn’t last too long. She still had detention with him on Friday, something she was most definitely not looking forward to.

The dreaded Friday detention came all too soon, and Lauren briefly contemplated just walking out the classroom at the end of the lesson. The thought, though tempting, was inadvisable. Snape was not a person you dared outright defy.

So she sat at her workstation, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glared at the countertop. Snape was seated behind his desk, watching her with that penetrating gaze of his.

“Miss Ward,” he said after a prolong silence had lapsed.

Her scowl darkened. “Just tell me what I have to do for detention.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Your instructions are on the board,” he finally stated.

Lauren lifted her gaze to the blackboard, her eyes skimming over the ingredients she would need to brew a Calming Draught. It was a lengthy and complex potion; way more advanced than she was capable of brewing at her skill level.

She stared at the board, her stomach knotting when she realized this was going to be a disaster.

“Is there a problem, Miss Ward?” Snape enquired.

It was then that Lauren understood why Snape had specifically allocated this difficult potion for her: he wanted her to ask for his help.

_Like flying fuck I will._

“No,” she replied curtly and made her way to the storage closet to collect the ingredients.

The next hour passed in silence, Lauren intently focused on brewing the potion, which was not going good at all. For one it was slimy green and smelled like cabbage. Secondly, it was belching dangerously, threatening to explode at any moment. Lauren extinguished the flame and sighed in defeat. This potion was going to take considerably more practice, and a few years, to perfect.

Lauren glanced over at Snape, who was busy grading essays at his desk. She noticed that he was using his new quill, the red bottle of ink nearby, and she had to quickly tamp down the pleased feeling that bubbled in her chest.

Snape paused, as though sensing her eyes on him, and Lauren quickly averted her gaze. A few seconds ticked by and then she heard his quill resume scratching once more on the parchment.

She clutched at the edge of her workstation as she stared at the disaster of the potion. Thoughts whirled around in her head, consuming her entirely that she did not notice that Snape was now watching her, waiting. After a few moments she became aware of him.

“What you did was unforgiveable,” she finally stated, looking up to meet his gaze.

“I know.”

“Juvenile even,” she said, throwing his words from last week back into his face.

Snape merely stared back at her; his features guarded. But he made no response so Lauren continued.

“You talk about controlling one’s emotions, yet you have one of the worst tempers I have ever seen.”

Snape leaned forward in his chair; his hands clasped in front of him on his desk as he regarded her. “It would seem that you and I possess the same flaw then.”

Lauren narrowed her eyes. It was nowhere near an apology, but she had hardly expected to receive one from him.

“It was a violation; a breach of my trust,” she said through clenched teeth.

Snape’s features remained an unreadable mask.

“I hope you enjoyed it,” she snapped, pushing away from her workstation. “I hope my pain and humiliation were amusing to you -.”

“No.” 

Lauren paused. Snape rose to his feet as well, his posture rigid and his jaw clenched as he glared back at her. This was the first bit of unguarded emotion she had glimpsed from him thus far since detention had commenced.

“What?”

“I garnered no enjoyment from any of it,” Snape enunciated, his black eyes glinting at the memory.

Lauren was momentarily stunned by his admission. It had almost sounded heartfelt. “That wasn’t an apology,” she finally pointed out.

“No, it wasn’t.”

They stared at each other, both too headstrong to apologize, yet neither wanting things to continue the way they were between them.

“Is this what you do?” Lauren asked, shaking her head. “Push people away when they get too close? Is this how you usually treat your friends?”

“You are not my friend, Miss Ward. You are my student – nothing more, nothing less. You had best remember that,” he cut in, his voice an ominous growl.

Lauren tried not to feel hurt by his words but dammit, it stung.

“My mistake then, Professor Snape,” she bit back curtly.

Something unreadable flickered within the dark depths of his eyes.

Knowing they had come to a stalemate, Lauren picked up her bag from the floor and marched towards the door. She paused, her hand curled around the door handle.

_No, don’t say it Lauren! _the rational part of her mind begged. But Lauren, as she had admitted, was rash and hotheaded.

“Don’t make the same mistake with me as you did with Lily.”

She swung open the door, but it was suddenly slammed shut in her face. She tried handle again, but it resolutely would not budge.

“What. Did. You. Say?” Snape snarled, punctuating each word.

Lauren leaned her forehead against the door, suddenly tired of it all. “You heard me.” She drew in a deep breath and turned around to face him. “Lily was your friend – your only friend – and you pushed her away, just like you’re trying to push me away.”

Snape’s glare darkened. “You are not my -.”

“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. A friend wouldn’t do what you did. A friend wouldn’t make me relive those memories!”

Tears stung her eyes and she couldn’t help the lone tear that trickled down her cheek. She angrily swiped the tear away and glanced away, folding her arms protectively over her belly. Crying always made her feel so vulnerable.

The silence was her only reply, which was worse. She’d prefer Snape shouting and ranting at her; anything to distract her from the pain clawing at her heart.

“I’m so angry at you,” she ground out as another tear fell free from her lashes.

A swathe of black entered her field of tear-blurred vision and she slowly looked up into the pale features of Severus Snape.

Suddenly the fight left her. She didn’t want to continue down this path.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about Lily,” she murmured, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

He remained silent and Lauren finally dared looked up. Snape’s expression was stony, frosty even, but she could discern the internal struggle waging in those dark depths.

“We’re both terrible at this,” she muttered bitterly.

“At what?” he finally asked, derision still evident in his voice.

“At apologizing.”

Snape stared at her for what felt like eternity.

“You really were an ass,” she ventured.

“And you, Miss Ward, vex me beyond what is reasonable.”

She cracked a smile at his dry tone, relaxing now that his fury was now fast evaporating. They stared at each other, neither quite knowing how to proceed.

The seconds ticked by in a progressional march.

Snape was the first to break the hush that had descended, deciding on another approach, one that was obviously weighing heavy on his mind. “My actions were rash, this I admit, but I cannot impress upon you enough the importance of learning Occlumency, Miss Ward. My decision to start teaching you was not made lightly. Should the Dark Lord ever discover the knowledge you possess, he will not hesitate in using any means necessary to extract it from your mind.”

Lauren knew he had a point, a very valid point, but her stomach still coiled with dread at the thought of enduring another Occlumency lesson, and especially having to relieve painful memories all over again. But Voldemort already had his sights set on her and, as far as she knew, did not know about her origins nor the fact that she held valuable knowledge that he could use to win the war. If he should ever learn the truth and get his hands on her…well, Snape’s actions would seem like butterfly kisses compared to what Voldemort would do to her.

She studied Snape, a large part of her wanting to refuse, but the logical part of her whispering that this was necessary. Very necessary.

There was no way around this. It was time to pull on her big girl panties and face this head-on.

“If we continue with Occlumency lessons, we first need to lay down some ground rules.”

Snape arched a brow, waiting for her to continue.

“Teach me properly. Don’t tell me to do something and assume I know how.”

Snape looked as though he were about to make a scathing retort, but after a moment’s thought, he inclined his head in agreement.

“Secondly, don’t use Occlumency as a way of taking your anger out on me.”

His eyes flashed, but she held up her hand.

“And I will make a concerted effort not to use my knowledge of certain…things against you.” She still regretted that Lily comment. It was the worst possible way to hurt him and, in her moment of anger, Lauren had used it to her full advantage. Not her proudest moment for sure.

Snape looked as though he didn’t believe her for one second, which was perfectly understandable. He was not a person who trusted easily, and neither was she. But she was hoping that by agreeing to this, he would see that she had faith enough in him to place her trust in his hands once more.

She wanted things to return to the way they were before, and it was up to her to lay down the olive branch.

“And, I suppose you’ve seen the worst of my memories…”

Snape glanced sharply away, though Lauren thought she heard him mutter something along the lines of, “Thank god for small mercies.”

She blinked in surprise as she realized that her memories had unsettled the impervious Snape.

“Professor Snape?”

He turned his attention to her once more, an unreadable mask now firmly in place.

Lauren reached out to him, wanting to convey silently that it was okay, but Snape swiftly stepped back and out of her reach.

Lauren dropped her hand to her side, stung by his actions. She had thought they had been making progress and were now coming to an amends. But as she looked up into his face, she saw none of the previous anger, but rather weariness. Then realization hit her.

“We really need to find a way to control…whatever is going on with our magic,” she muttered.

“Hence the Occlumency lessons,” he drawled.

“Trust you to have more than one reason for doing something.”

Snape gave her a tightlipped smile, and for him that was a lot.

Lauren shook her head and glanced down at her wristwatch. It was almost time for dinner.

Looking up at Snape she arched her brow, challenging him. “Do you think my reputation as a bad-ass is enough to deter Professor Quirrell or do I still need you to walk me back to my room?”

Amusement flashed in his eyes. “I’ll walk you back.”

The walk back to the Slytherin Common Room was reminiscent of previous times, and almost felt normal.

Lauren glanced up at the dark Potion Master walking beside her and noticed the built-up tension that had enveloped him the entire week was visibly absent.

Snape, she had to conclude, had not enjoyed the rift that had formed between them.

Theirs was an unconventional friendship, with a lot of push and pull, but they were on the path to understanding each other a little better now. They were accepting each other, _flaws _and all.


	17. Chapter 17

“Concentrate, Miss Ward,” Severus snapped, shooting Lauren a look of pure exasperation as he lowered his wand to his side.

They had been practicing Occlumency every Friday evening for a little over a month now. In the beginning, especially after what had happened, the situation had been tense and awkward. Gradually the dust had settled, though, and they had slid back into their respective roles of annoying student and infuriating teacher; in other words, they had reverted back to their grudging ‘friendship’ (a term that Snape still would not admit to).

The first step in her Occlumency lesson had been to clear her mind of all thoughts and emotions. It was reminiscent of meditation and Lauren found it all rather tedious. She, admittedly, had very little patience for these hippy-age exercises that centered on core well-being and Zen, but she bit her tongue and endeavored to do so.

The next step, though, was proving a bit more difficult. Once Snape had been satisfied enough that she could at least master her emotions, he next had her maintaining the mental blank slate within her mind whilst he used Legilimens on her.

Lauren was but a beginner, Snape had explained, and could not be expected to delve into the more advanced theory of Occlumency just yet, which dealt with the more complex practice of implanting false images and memories to throw off a Legilimens attack. From what Lauren understood, these faux memories were used as a method to redirect or deceive a Legilimens; surface memories that, if implanted successfully enough, would lead a Legilimens down an alternative path of deceit and thus keep the true memories safe from discovery.

That, unfortunately, required extensive skill; a level of skill Lauren most certainly did not possess at this very moment.

So, for the time being, she was required to clear her mind of all thoughts and emotions and try and keep Snape from glimpsing her memories when he entered her mind.

But Snape was electing not to enter her memories, per se, just her mind during their sessions, though.

Lauren had felt his presence like a dark shadow on the outskirts, patiently waiting for her to either erect mental barriers, or somehow cast him out. Lauren suspected that this was mainly due to the fact that Severus was in no hurry to enter and view her memories again, accidental or otherwise.

His mental presence should have unsettled her, but like with their magic bond, there was an underlying warmth that tingled within her subconscious.

Lauren sagged in her chair and rubbed tiredly at her forehead, where a throbbing headache had formed.

“I am trying, goddammit. Just give me a moment,” she muttered, resisting the urge to snap at him.

_An uncontrolled mind ruled by emotions - a weak mind in other words - will make one more susceptible to a Legilimens attack,_ came to mind. They had been Snape’s exact words.

Lauren closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose, willing herself to relax and her emotions to seep away like the rivulets of melting snow.

She blinked open her eyes and stood up, giving Snape a single nod and indicating that she was now ready. He regarded her for a few heartbeats with those dark eyes of his, silently assessing her.

Then he slowly raised his wand, giving her enough time to prepare herself.

Severus really didn’t need his wand, this Lauren knew, as he was greatly skilled at casting nonverbal and wandless magic. The fact that he was choosing to use his wand showed that he wanted Lauren to see exactly what he was doing and that he was not going to spring a sudden attack upon her. This was his way of showing that he wasn’t going to abuse her trust. Lauren trusted him regardless, but appreciated the gesture, nonetheless.

“Legilimens,” he uttered, his incantation low and deep.

Lauren braced herself and soon she felt his presence slither into her mind and settle within.

There was poignant poise and she sensed a tendril of curiosity emanating from him at the image of a deep calm lake which she had conjured within her mind; the surface still and mirror-like.

_I don’t recall teaching you about mental visualization, Miss Ward, _he said, his silky baritone sounding within her head.

Lauren drew in another deep breath and it took every ounce of concentration to conjure up the image of the Occlumency book Snape had lent her. In her mind the book flew open, the pages flipping in a speedy blur until it stopped at the page she sought - a chapter dedicated to erecting visual images that acted as mental shields or barriers. The purpose of these visual shields was to protect the mind against a mental attack in which a Legilimens would have to exert considerable effort to break down, and would also afford a person enough time to hide certain memories from sight.

She could literally feel Snape raise a brow at the image she had conjured.

_Hmm, _he murmured to himself._ I see you’ve been practicing._

“Yes, every night” she answered aloud, her voice quivering at the strain of trying to maintain the mental shield whilst holding a conversation simultaneously. It was draining, not to mention distracting, and Lauren knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer.

Then Lauren detected an emotion that was decidedly not her own. A pleased, rather proud sensation.

_At least you are capable of putting into practice what you have learned…Shall we test out the strength of your shield?_

“You mean…you want to try and enter my memories?” she asked, unconsciously clenching her hands into fists at her side at the thought.

_Yes._

At least he was giving her a choice this time. Lauren sensed that Snape had no desire to relive any of her memories again, but in order to teach her and test the strength of her mental shield it was inevitable that he was going to have to do so.

Lauren exhaled slowly, steeling herself. “Okay.”

There was another pause, almost as though Snape, too, was preparing himself.

Then she felt pressure compressing against the surface of mirror-like lake, gentle at first then gradually becoming more insistent. The surface of the lake began to ripple as Snape exerted more force, and Lauren knew she wouldn’t be able to withstand his attack for much longer.

Suddenly the image gave way, the hard surface now morphing into the water it represented, and then Snape was in her mind. But instead of diving in, he held back; a spectator silently viewing the memories that floated and shifted before him

“Try and repel me from your mind,” he instructed quietly as indistinct images flitted in and out of focus, some rising to the surface only to sink back into the murky depths once more.

“How?” she asked.

“I am merely in your mind, Miss Ward. You have free access to your wand, I believe, and should make good use of it,” he stated.

It was an odd sensation, being stuck in her mind yet still being aware of her physical body and surroundings. If she concentrated, she could look beyond what was playing out in her mind and see him standing before her in his study, his eyes boring into her and his wand still drawn as he maintained the connection.

Lauren was just about to reach for her wand and do as he had instructed when an image rose to the surface, catching her attention. It was a very familiar face; one that brought both joy and longing, as well as sadness to her heart.

Lauren refocused her energy on bringing the memory into focus and she sensed Snape tensing up. But she was not particularly worried about him seeing this memory - at seeing _her_.

The memory rippled and then came into sharp focus, revealing an older woman who was in her late forties, her auburn hair streaked with grey and laughter lines heavily wrinkling her kind eyes. Her face was rounded and pleasant, an inner joyous light shimmering in her warm whiskey hued eyes.

She felt Snape edge closer to the image, curiously studying the older woman before him.

Lauren waited until she was sure his attention was solely focused on the image. Then she raised her wand and pointed it at his chest.

“Stupefy!” she cried out.

Instantly Snape was torn from the depths of her mind as he severed the mental connection, hastily deflecting her spell to the side. The spell, unfortunately, was thrown into the lamp on his desk, shattering it.

Lauren gaped openly at him, for Snape had reacted so fast that she had barely seen him move. She decided right there and then that she never wanted to duel this formidable opponent, especially if he could react that fast while appearing otherwise occupied.

Snape, for his part, still had his wand pointed at her, silently gauging and waiting to see if she was going to attack him again. His eyes were narrowed and guarded, his stance rigid and tense and poised to defend himself.

Lauren blinked at this realization and then lowered her wand, Snape following suite shortly after and straightening up to his full height.

He regarded her shrewdly for a few beats. “That was clever, trying to distract me before launching an attack.”

Lauren ignored the compliment completely, which was highly unusual as she rarely passed up the opportunity to point out when Severus Snape praised her. “You have to teach me to duel like that!”

Snape shot her a patronizing look. “I’m already investing quite a considerable amount of my free time teaching you Occlumency as well as Potion brewing.”

“And?”

“And I don’t have to do anything,” he replied tartly. But Lauren could tell that the idea was now implanted in his mind and was being considered. She resisted smirking at him.

Snape’s features morphed into thoughtfulness. “Who was that woman?”

Lauren tucked her wand back into her pocket. “My foster mother, Jennifer,” she replied, her voice tinged with fondness, yet intermingled with sorrow. “She took me in shortly after that…last memory you saw.”

Snape studied her for a moment before turning on his heel and making his way to his desk, settling composedly into his high back leather chair. He motioned for her to take a seat and, after a moment’s hesitation, she did so.

“What happened to her?” he enquired once Lauren was seated.

“She died from a brain aneurism shortly after I completed high school. I…” Lauren paused, drawing in a steadying breath as she tried to will down the pain that this specific memory conjured. “I went off the rails. My life was pretty much a mess for a few years after that, until I started to get it together and get back on track. Then I met Deacon two years ago and, well, you saw how well that ended.”

Snape’s lips pressed together in a thin line at the mention of Deacon, his eyes glinting like shards of glass as he stared at her. Then he averted his gaze, the emotion suddenly gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“I take it she treated you well?” he deflected.

“Yes,” Lauren said with a nod, her lips curling into a sad smile. “She basically pulled me from the rubble and showed me what it was to be loved unconditionally.” Lauren sighed as she recounted more of her life with Jennifer. “Jennifer provided a loving and stable home and I, in turn, gave her grief - especially in my teen years. But not once did I feel unwanted or unloved. She tried her best to repair the damage my father had done, and it was slow going for a while. But I finally started to trust her and eventually even call her my mother. I don’t think she ever realized it, but Jennifer saved me in more ways than one.” Lauren’s voice cracked, but she stilled the tears that now glimmered in her eyes.

Snape was listening intently. “And your biological mother?” he asked softly, his gaze still averted, but Lauren sensed that he was awaiting her answer with keen interest.

Lauren gave a derisive snort, anger filling her. “She was weak. I suppose she had once been a loving mother, but by the time the beatings got really bad and Child Protection Services were finally called in, she was nothing but a shell of…uselessness. She couldn’t even stand up to that bastard to protect her own child.”

Snape gave a slight nod of his head and Lauren knew he was relating to what she had gone through. They were very similar in that respect: both had been cast from the same mold and had endured similar childhood traumas and, as a result, had grown into hardened adults.

But Lauren’s path had diverged from Snape’s own. She had been shown love and kindness in the end, whereas Severus Snape had never known such sentiments. The emotional scars her father had inflicted upon her would forever be there, though, but the love Jennifer brought to her life had softened the hard edges of Lauren’s persona and had instilled a sense of empathy within her.

Lauren studied Snape, wondering if his life would have turned out differently if just a bit of love and kindness had been present in his life. But that hadn’t been his fate and before her now sat the end result: a man bearing the many and unimaginable scars of his upbringing. The bravest man she would ever know.

Maybe it was just as well his path had led him down this road, otherwise the wizarding world wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of winning this war without him.

“What about you?” she ventured, wanting to learn more about the man that sat before her. She wasn’t really expecting an answer as Snape kept his innermost thoughts and secrets well-guarded.

Snape slowly turned his head to meet her enquiring gaze, and Lauren was surprised that there was none of the deflective disdain that she had expected. Rather, there was a quizzical look shadowing his features.

“Do you not know?”

Lauren shook her head. “Not all the details. I know that your mom was a witch and your father was a Muggle. I don’t know too much about your earlier childhood, except that you, too, grew up in poverty and there were hints of childhood abuse.”

His dark gaze bore into her. Lauren held her breath as she waited for him to either chuck her from his study or hex her for daring to ask such a personal question.

“My history is much alike to yours, though I never had…a savior.” There was neither bitterness nor resentment in his tone – just mere acceptance. Snape was not one to wallow in self-pity.

Lauren was stunned that he was even sharing this much with her, but she didn’t dare push for more answers. A large part of her didn’t want to know the details, especially if his past was anything like hers.

Instead she let out a sigh and then shot him a conspiratorial look, hoping to change the current mood. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drink right about now.”

“No,” he stated almost immediately.

Lauren grinned openly at him for this had become their weekly ritual; she trying to wheedle a glass or two of Firewhisky from him, and Snape always denying her.

A smile of his own playing on his lips, Snape rose to his feet, indicating that their session was now over. “I really can’t wait for Professor Quirrell’s term to end so that I no longer have to walk you back to your room. It’s becoming quite tiresome.”

Lauren frowned, gasping when the true meaning of his words smacked her right in the face. “You know about the curse?”

His smile morphed into an arrogant smirk. “I suspected; you just confirmed it.”

Lauren closed her mouth shut with an audible snap, pressing her lips firmly together.

His smirk broadened. “The jinx has been in place since before I started my schooling at Hogwarts, Miss Ward. No Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has lasted more than a year, to my recollection.”

“If you know this, then why do you keep applying for the position?” she asked, unable to hide her incredulity.

“It has become a habitual game between Albus Dumbledore and myself: I will request the post and he will deny my request.”

Lauren shook her head thinking, not for the first time, that she would never fully understand men. “You really need to find yourself a new hobby,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Maybe,” he mused. “And what of your hobbies?” he asked as he strode towards the door, holding it open for her.

Lauren flashed him a mischievous smile. “Well, this summer I plan on learning to brew some moonshine, seeing as you won’t share your stash and I have no other way of getting my hands on any alcohol.”

As she passed him Lauren could see the corners of his lips twitching. That oddly pleased feeling resurfaced, seeping into her chest, and Lauren found that she rather liked that she could amuse Severus Snape.

~oOo~

Winter soon gave way to Spring, the white snow thawing with the gradually warming days. With the shift of seasons came the subtle hint of change, a crisp and clean freshness clinging to the air of the Scottish Highlands.

It was close to the end of March when Tracey informed her that they had less than twelve weeks before end-of-year exams were upon them.

Lauren slowly lowered her book that she had been reading and eyed her friend with weary trepidation, wondering if Tracey was going to become a frenzied version of Hermione Granger at the prospect of the upcoming exams.

They were currently sitting on the lush lawn overlooking the Black Lake and enjoying the rare afternoon sunshine.

Catching sight of the look Lauren was shooting her, Tracey laughed. “Oh come on! I’m not that bad. You should see the timetable Hermione Granger has drawn up. I’m actually quite impressed.”

“You bring a timetable like that near me and I assure you it will suffer the same fate as that planner,” Lauren grumbled, raising her book once more to resume reading.

She heard Tracey chuckle good-naturedly and both girls stretched out in silence, letting the sun’s rays warm their bodies.

After a few moment’s silence, Tracey spoke up. “Did you do something to make Professor Snape angry?”

Lauren lowered her book, confused. “What?”

“He’s been in a rather foul mood these last few weeks.”

“And you think I’m the cause of it?” Lauren asked, not sure whether to feel offended or not.

Tracey pressed her lips together, but Lauren could see that she was struggling not to grin. “You have a knack for pushing all his buttons the wrong way, if your ongoing detentions are anything to go by. It’s been what, three months now? I just figured you might have done or said something…”

Lauren’s frown deepened. Now that Tracey had mentioned it, Snape had been in a rather tumultuous mood of late. Well, more surly than usual. And she was most certainly not the cause of it, as far as she knew. That left only three other options: Quirrell, Dumbledore, or Harry Potter. Personally, her money was on Harry Potter.

“Nope. For once I am innocent,” Lauren replied, trying to ignore the look that Tracey was giving her that clearly stated that she did not believe her. “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Tracey replied, finally grinning openly.

Despite herself, Lauren felt herself smiling along with Tracey. But she made a mental note to get to the bottom of what was troubling Snape during her next ‘detention’ with him.

~oOo~

“Okay, out with it,” Lauren snapped as she stirred her potion. Snape now had them alternating their private lessons, with Occlumency being one week and potion brewing the other.

Snape was pacing around his classroom, tension roiling off him in buffering waves and his scowl more pronounced than usual.

Today’s Potion lesson had been brutal, with Snape all but snarling at every student, even reducing a few to tears.

Snape paused in his pacing and shot her a withering look.

“Something’s got your knickers in a knot, and I want to know what it is,” Lauren stated matter-of-factly as she turned her attention once more to her cauldron.

She could feel his dark glare boring into her, but she ignored it.

After a few moments silence, Snape drifted into her field of vision, coming to stand on the other side of her workstation.

Lauren glanced up at him, arching a brow as she silently waited for him to tell her what was really aggravating him.

The seconds ticked by.

Finally Snape broke the silence, his tone bitter and resentful. “The Headmaster has requested that I referee the next Quidditch match.”

Lauren halted in her stirring, gaping in surprise. “You know how to play Quidditch?”

It was Snape’s turn to arch his brow as he stared down at her, managing to make the look patronizing. “You seem surprised.”

Lauren shook her head and hastily resumed her stirring. “Sorry. It’s just, you don’t seem like the, uh…athletic type.”

The other brow raised to join the other, and Lauren flushed, dropping her gaze.

“I, um, I mean…you seem more…academically inclined.”

“Academically inclined?” he sneered.

Lauren’s flush deepened. “That’s to say…um…your physique…” Lauren let out a groan. “I’m digging myself into a hole, aren’t I?”

“By all means, please do continue,” he drawled, his tone bone dry.

Lauren cringed. She hadn’t meant to insult him, but Snape didn’t come across as someone who was athletic or sporty. In fact, she was fairly certain that underneath all those layers of black, Snape wasn’t harboring a chiseled physique at all. A life of academic pursuit did not leave one with a body to rival that of Dwayne Johnson himself.

A loud hissing issued from her potion, saving Lauren from answering, and she hastily cut the flame before the potion had a chance to boil over. She mentally cursed herself at becoming distracted and flustered like that.

Snape nonverbally vanished the ruined contents within and turned his attention once more to Lauren.

“As you were saying…”

“Nope. I didn’t say a thing,” she quipped.

Lauren relaxed when she spotted a hint of an amused smirk flittering across his features. Snape leaned his hip against the workstation, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tell me, Miss Ward, what do you know of the sport?” he asked conversationally, but Lauren wasn’t fooled.

She gnawed on her bottom lip, thinking. “There are three goal post on either side of the field. The Quaffle is used to score goals, which the Keeper on either team has to prevent. The Beaters job is to bat the Bludgers away from their teammates and try to send it to their opponents, and the Seeker tries to catch the Snitch, and by doing so ends the match. The Snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points, and whichever teams has the most points at the end of the match wins.”

Snape sneered down at her. “Very good, Miss Ward. Now if you, of all people, are able to grasp the basic concepts of the game, what makes you think that I wouldn’t know a thing or two about Quidditch?” Condescension practically dripped from his voice.

“Touché,” Lauren finally conceded. “So why is Dumbledore making you referee the game?”

“To protect Potter, of course,” he growled, his surliness returning tenfold. “Between you and Potter, I don’t know who is more of a magnet for trouble. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you two started school.”

Lauren grinned at his acerbic tone. “Well, we’re keeping you busy and stopping you from getting bored. Plus, my sunny disposition makes it all worthwhile.”

Snape shot her a withering look, which only had her laughing out loud as it had lacked any real heat.

“Time to head back to your room,” he stated.

Lauren spied a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and it sent that odd pleased feeling seeping back into her chest again.

“You know, Harry thinks that _you’re_ after the Philosopher’s Stone,” Lauren mused beside him as they made their way back to the Slytherin Common Room.

“Shows what an idiot he is,” Snape replied with his usual aplomb.

“Well, you’ve hardly given him reason to think otherwise,” she pointed out.

“And I don’t plan to. Now can we stop talking about Potter. It’s bad enough that I’m forced to ensure his safety…” Lauren thought she heard him mutter something about ‘paying his bloody debt’.

Sympathy shot through her at the thought that Snape was not only ensuring her safety, but trying to protect Potter as well. Added to the fact that he was also teaching her Occlumency and potion brewing in his spare time, well, he really did have a lot on his plate right now.

Lauren knew that he didn’t have to do any of these things for her, but he was doing them, nonetheless. It showed that, in a way, Snape did care. He just chose to show in more unconventional ways.

~oOo~

Soon the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was upon them, and Lauren made her way to the stands with the rest of the school, Tracey at her side. An excited buzzing permeated the air as students hustled and bustled to their seats, jostling each other playfully as contagious anticipation coursed through their veins.

Lauren and Tracey sat down on one of the benches, Lauren scanning the field in the hopes of getting a glimpse of Snape. Quidditch held very little interest for her, but she really wanted to see Snape on a broom, for it was a sight she knew she probably wouldn’t see again. Plus, she wanted to see for herself that he really did know how to play the sport. Part of her was still doubtful about his claims.

Then she spied him marching towards the two teams assembled on the field, a vision of roiling thunderous black. His scowl was as vicious as ever as he eyed each team member, his gaze lingering on Potter longer than necessary and no doubt blaming the boy for his ill luck of having to referee this match.

Then he mounted his broom and soon the game kicked off. Lauren was in awe as she watched Snape flying with an expertise she had not known him to possess. As with everything he did, there was a distinct finesse to his flying skills.

The game progressed, loud raucous cheers permeating the air whenever a goal was scored. Snape was hovering in the air on his broom, his dark eyes scanning everything around him with scrutiny. But as the match continued, it became evident that Quirrell was going to behave, especially with Dumbledore now present.

Something caught her attention and Lauren turned to see Draco, Ron, Crabbe, Goyle and Neville wrestling in the stands nearby.

She rolled her eyes, realizing that Malfoy must have been up to his usual trick of trying to rile up the Gryffindors and, by the looks of it, Ron and Neville were putting up a good fight.

A collective gasp drew her attention away and she gasped herself when she saw a blur of scarlet zooming towards Severus. Snape turned around and was narrowly missed by Harry, who was diving spectacularly for the Snitch.

The stadium erupted in cheers as Harry held the Snitch up triumphantly in his fist, the golden wings fluttering between his fingers.

Snape landed on the ground, looking downright murderous. He stormed off the field, but Lauren noted with curiosity that he was not heading back towards the castle, but rather to the Forbidden Forest. Lauren decided it best to give him a few hours to cool down and she would check in on him later tonight.

~oOo~

The Gryffindor victory was met with bitterness within the Slytherin Common Room, and most of her housemates had elected to call it an early night.

Lauren was seated in front of the fireplace, revising her Transfiguration notes in preparation for the exams that were still weeks away. Tracey had insisted and Lauren had finally relented, though Tracey had left about half an hour ago for bed, leaving Lauren alone to study.

The doors opened and in stormed Draco, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. All three looked rather rumpled and disheveled.

Draco spied Lauren said something to Crabbe and Goyle. They nodded and went to their room. Draco eyed her for a moment and then took a seat beside her.

“Ward.”

“Malfoy.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them.

“So, who won?” Lauren finally asked, unable to help herself as she briefly eyed his appearance.

A sour look passed over his features, but of instead of answering, he muttered, “They’re up to something…”

“Who?” Lauren asked, not in the least bit interested as she tried to concentrate on her notes.

“Potter, Weasley and Granger. They’re always sneaking down to that oaf’s hut.”

Lauren stilled, casting her memory back and trying to recall what was supposed to happen next in the book.

_Ah, the baby dragon…_

Lauren shrugged. “Why don’t you just follow them and see what they are really up to instead of sitting here speculating.”

Draco drummed his fingers against the armrest. “I may just do that.”

_Yeah, and enjoy your detention in the Forbidden Forest as a result, _she thought vindictively, hiding her smirk.

“So, my godfather thinks highly of you,” Draco finally stated.

Lauren looked up sharply at him, wondering what the hell he was getting at.

“I highly doubt that considering he has given me detention indefinitely,” she remarked.

Draco shrugged. “He told my father so.”

Lauren eyed him. “Why would your father and Professor Snape be talking about me?”

“It may have come up that you are a descendant of Bethany Ward. My father was rather curious about that and spoke to my godfather. Severus admitted that you possess the same talent as you ancestor.”

Lauren stared at him, choosing to remain quiet.

“Then there was that thing you did to those three Gryffindor boys,” Draco exclaimed with a gleeful chuckle. “That was brilliant!”

Lauren sighed and placed her notes on her lap, giving Draco her full attention now. “Okay, out with it, Draco. What do you want?”

Draco eyed her contemplatively. “I could do with someone like you in my group...”

Lauren blinked in disbelief at the blonde-haired prat who had taken a sudden interest in her. She had expected an array of things from him, but this was almost laughable. It was such a childish request - Draco wanted her to join his little gang of miscreants in the hopes that it would up his esteem.

Lauren wanted nothing more than to shoot him down and possibly reduce him to tears, but a sly voice that sounded distinctly like Severus Snape cautioned for her to approach this with prudence.

_Draco might prove to be the key in all of this. Best not to make an enemy of him just yet…_

Lauren mulled over the implications of those sly words. Draco and his family were close to Severus and, if she played her cards right, they might be used to change the tide of Snape’s fate. How, she had no idea, but the idea held possible merit and promise.

“Draco, you really don’t want me in your group,” she finally replied.

“But I do.”

Lauren shook her head. “Think about it, Draco. I’m not a follower and I most certainly won’t take orders from you. You’re better off with Crabbe and Goyle, who are more than willing to follow your every command. Me? I’d just tell you to piss off and do it yourself. No, you and I get along better apart than we do together, don’t you think?”

Draco looked a bit petulant at her rejection, so Lauren hastened on.

“I like our cordial…understanding the way it is right now, Draco. Do you really want to mess that up?”

“No, I suppose not,” he finally conceded, and although he was clearly disappointed, he was in agreement. “What are you doing?” he asked, finally taking notice of the papers she held in her hand.

“Studying.”

“For what?”

“Our exams, which are in a few weeks.”

Draco eyed her and then shook his head. “Yeah, I think it’s just as well you’re not part of my group. I didn’t take you to be one of those studying types” he said with a shake of his head before rising to his feet. “Well, good night, Ward.”

“Good night, Draco,” she murmured, turning her attention to her notes once more.

Once she heard him leave, she glanced around and was pleased to note that she was the only one left in the Common Room. Shoving her notes in her pocket, she made her way to the portrait and uttered the password. The door swung open and she stepped in, making sure to close the door behind her.

Casting the _Lumos _spell, she traversed the passageway until she reached the portrait leading to Snape’s study. Swinging it open, she stepped out and blinked when she saw that Severus was seated at his desk, nursing a glass of Firewhisky in his hand.

He turned his dark gaze towards he and seemed unsurprised to see her. Lauren watched as he raised his glass to his lips, swallowing the contents down in one go.

Lauren made her way over to one of the chairs and sat down, studying him. His usually pale cheeks were flushed and, as her gaze wandered, she noted the half empty of Firewhisky sitting on his desk.

“Normally I’m not one to say this, but do you think it’s a good idea to be getting drunk?” she finally asked.

His derisive snort was answer enough. “I’ve had a trying day, Miss Ward. Do not add to it,” he snipped, the warning clear in his voice.

Lauren didn’t want to know how he planned on dealing with the insurmountable stress he was going to endure in the upcoming years, though she had a feeling she was going to deal with a drunk Snape more often than not.

“Well, the match went well. Nothing bad happened to Harry,” she ventured.

“Because I was there keeping an eye on Quirrell.” Snape replied disdainfully as he refilled his glass, sloshing some of the liquid onto the surface of his desk. “I had a private word with him in the Forbidden Forest…”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I warned him to stay away from you,” he growled, taking another sip from his tumbler.

Lauren blinked in surprise. This was almost possessively protective of Severus Snape.

“I appreciate that,” she finally stated.

Snape made a dismissive sound in the back of this throat as he took another sip of his Firewhisky.

Lauren impulsively reached for the bottle, figuring that he was too drunk to either care or react.

The sharp smack on her hand told her otherwise. Lauren snatched her stinging hand away and cradled it against her chest, shooting Snape a dark scowl. A sardonic smirk curled his lips.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“It was supposed to.”

Lauren decided right there and then she never wanted to receive a spanking from the Potion Master. Ever.

Leaning back in her chair, Lauren decided to speak to him about what was playing on her mind, seeing as how he wasn’t as drunk as he had first appeared.

“I had a conversation with Draco not too long ago.”

“Pray tell, what is my godson up to now?”

“Oh, the usual. He wanted to recruit me into his little gang.”

Snape seemed neither perturbed nor surprised.

“He mentioned some things…I should warn you not to reveal too much about me to the Malfoys.”

Snape shot her a condescending look. “I revealed nothing that was not already known, Miss Ward. I am not an idiot. Draco overheard your conversation with Miss Davis, revealing your family ties to Bethany Ward. His father also heard from him that you are markedly skilled in potions – something I merely confirmed when pressed.”

Lauren nodded to herself. Her secrets would remain safe for now. If there was one person whom she trusted to keep them safe, it was Snape.

“It’s time for you to get back to bed, Miss Ward,” he stated pointedly.

Lauren sighed and rose to her feet. Snape was in no mood for conversation, nor sharing his drink. There was no reason for her to linger.

But another thought struck her. “You’re quite an exceptional flyer. Did you ever play Quidditch in school?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Snape sighed heavily, laying his glass down on his desk with a heavy _thunk. _“I did attend try-outs, but the Marauders ensured that I…failed.”

Lauren’s heart twisted that those boys had been so cruel to him. Coming to a decision, she channeled her Occlumency and willed her magic down.

Cautiously she reached over and brushed her hand over his, which was still clutching his glass. There was a slight tingly response to their magic as their bare skin touched, but nothing compared to the all-consuming power it could manifest into.

Snape, who had tensed at her touch, looked up at her with an arched brow. Lauren ignored him and curled her smaller hand over his much larger one, noting that he didn’t try to pull away.

She remained silent, but in that simple touch she conveyed her thanks, as well as her regret and sorrow of what he had gone through. Snape would otherwise reject any words of sympathy or thanks, so Lauren was resorting to simple touch to convey these emotions.

She slowly withdrew her hand and let it drop to her side.

“Good night, sir.”

Snape stared at her with dark eyes that swirled with unreadable emotions. Then his gaze sharpened, and he gave a curt nod of his head. “Good night, Miss Ward.”

His dark eyes stayed on her until she left the room via the portrait, and still he stared at the spot she had left through for quite some time afterwards, lost in his thoughts.


	18. Chapter 18

“It’s a dragon!”

Lauren visibly startled, almost knocking her bottle of ink all over her parchment at the scare Draco had just given her. She was currently seated at one of the tables in the Slytherin Common room, revising for the upcoming exams, and she did not appreciate the disturbance.

She shot Draco a dark scowl of irritation as he seated himself next to her. Tracey, who was seated on the other side of her, directed a questioning look towards Lauren at Draco’s exclamation.

“A…_what_? What are you going on about, Draco?” Lauren grumbled, moving her ink bottle well out of accidental-knocking-over distance. She had been totally absorbed in her revision that Draco’s abrupt interruption had left her momentarily confused as to what he was referring to.

“A dragon,” he enunciated slowly and clearly, almost as though he were conversing with an idiot. “Hagrid has a dragon in his hut.”

“A dragon?” Tracey piped up, incredulity and disbelief clear in her tone. “I don’t think Hagrid’s hut is big enough to fit a dragon, Draco.”

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning forward in his chair and resting his crossed arms upon the surface of the table. “A _baby _dragon, Davis. A baby dragon.”

“Ah,” Tracey said. Then after a thoughtful pause she added with enough disparagement in her tone to do McGonagall proud, “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place. It would have cleared up the confusion rather quickly.”

Lauren tried in vain to smother her smirk.

Draco huffed impatiently. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, there’s a bloody dragon in that oaf’s hut.”

Lauren shrugged. “So? This_ is _Hagrid we’re talking about. It’s not surprising, really.”

“So?” Draco asked, his ice blue eyes flashing with indignation and the pitch of his tone hitching. “So? I’m quite sure it’s illegal to have one, especially as a pet.” Draco shook his head in disbelief, the movement barely disturbing his virgin-white hair, and Lauren had to wonder if he used some kind of super glue type of hair product to achieve such a result. “What is that oaf thinking, anyway?”

Lauren had to drag her attention away from his hair and concentrate on what he was saying. “Not really sure what goes through Hagrid’s mind sometimes…” she muttered, trailing off as she divested her energy in trying to find her place in her textbook once more.

Draco gaped – quite dramatically - at her. “Aren’t you in the least bit concerned.”

Lauren grumbled, knowing full well that Draco was not going to let this go, and snapped her book shut sharply. “Nope. I really couldn’t care less if the dragon burns down his hut or decides to eat him. In fact, I would find it highly entertaining.”

“But -.”

“But what, Draco? What exactly is there to do? Because as far as I can see, there are only a few available options; either you can alert the Ministry of Magic, or inform Dumbledore, or just leave it be.”

Draco’s eyes glinted with cunning as an idea took hold, his body practically thrumming with anticipation. “I could inform my father – he works at the Ministry, you know.”

“Yes, we are well aware of that fact, considering that you never pass up the opportunity to tell whoever is willing to listen,” Lauren replied bitingly, her words accompanied by an eye-roll. “But,” she continued, wagging her finger at him, “I’d bet anything that the Golden Trio are already making plans as we speak to get rid of it, especially if they discovered you were spying on them. Did they discover you spying on them?”

“Yeah,” Draco admitted reluctantly, leaning back in his chair.

“Well then,” she mused. “By the time you get anyone to investigate, the dragon will be long gone.”

“Unless I manage to catch them in the act,” Draco stated, straightening up in his chair with renewed determination.

“And then what?”

“Then I plan for them to get into trouble…maybe even get them expelled.”

Lauren scoffed. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s Harry freakin’ Potter,” Lauren spat, finally losing her patience. “You honestly think Dumbledore’s going to expel him?”

“He might if he knows about the dragon,” Draco retorted, proving that he could be just as headstrong as Lauren.

Lauren could spot quite a few flaws in Draco’s plan, as well as his line of thinking, but she recognized that it was useless trying to talk any sense into him. “Like I said: good luck with that.”

“You’re not going to help me?”

“I know a lost cause when I see one.”

“C’mon, Ward,” he whined, sounding distinctly like a little five-year-old.

Lauren levelled him with a stern look. “You remember what I told you last time?”

Judging by his blank expression, Lauren could tell that he didn’t.

“I told you that I am not a follower and that I would tell you to piss off and do it yourself. Well, here’s me telling you to piss off and do it yourself, Draco. I have no desire to get into any more trouble – I have enough detention as it is.”

A petulantly sulky look washed over his pale, pinched features. “So that’s it then?”

A shallow huff escaped her lips. “Look Draco, I’m going to act completely Slytherin here and opt to save my own skin. But I will tell you this. If I were you, I would first find out what they are planning. The more you know, the better your chances of getting them into trouble are.”

Draco seemed mollified at her advice, petulance giving way to defiant glee as a plan started to formulate in his mind. “Not a bad idea, Ward.”

“Good. Now can you bugger off and leave me to study in peace?”

Draco’s eyes darted to her textbook, then to the identical one settled in front of Tracey.

“How long until exams?” he asked warily.

“A month,” Tracey replied primly as she resumed jotting down notes.

“A month?” Draco groaned.

“Best put your nefarious plans on hold for a bit and maybe do some studying,” Lauren stated, pointedly picking up her book again.

Draco didn’t linger and disappeared in the direction of his room, undoubtedly to squeeze in some revision.

“That was very sneaky of you,” Tracey mused, her quill scratching upon the sheet of parchment before her.

“What are you talking about?” Lauren muttered, wishing everyone would just leave her the hell alone so that she could study, though part of her wondered where this enthusiasm for learning had come from since it had been nonexistent most of her life.

“Putting the idea in Draco’s head.”

“No idea what you’re getting at.”

“Really? So you didn’t just suggest that Draco spy on Potter and learn all he can before he tries to get them into trouble? And…maybe get in trouble himself.” Tracey paused, scratching her cheek absently as she eyed Lauren. “That really was quite Slytherin of you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lauren mumbled, her eyes still glued to the open pages of her book; neither confirming nor denying Tracey’s musings.

She happened to glance up and see Tracey shooting her a knowing look before turning her attention back to her notetaking, her hair falling across her pale cheeks and hiding her features from Lauren’s view.

“I have a feeling it’s not going to end too well for Draco, though,” Tracey murmured, cutting her gaze back up to Lauren, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Lauren quickly ducked her head to hide her own smirk at the thought of how much trouble Draco really was going to land in, finding she could barely muster up much sympathy for him. Her only regret was that she couldn’t be there personally to witness him squealing like a little pansy-assed girl in the Forbidden Forest.

~oOo~

Two weeks later Draco plonked down next to her during breakfast, looking decidedly foul tempered.

Lauren eyed him, the vindictive part of her wanting nothing more than to goad him. It would be so easy in his current mood. But they had formed a truce and Draco was thus far sticking to it, so Lauren was forced to tamp down the impulse, stating instead, “I take it things didn’t go according to plan…”

Draco snorted, his arms folded crossly in front of him on the table and annoyance radiating from his hunched form. “You could say that.”

“What happened?” Lauren enquired before taking a bite of her buttered toast.

A sour look passed over his features at the memory. “I found the note from Weasley’s brother stating when and where they were going to collect the dragon. I was on my way to inform Filch, but McGonagall caught me and refused to believe me when I told her what Potter was up to…” Draco paused, his eyes glinting. “Though, Filch did catch them in the end, but only after they had gotten rid of the dragon. They now have detention for being out past curfew.”

“So why do you look angry? Surely you should be elated that they did get into trouble?” Lauren asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Draco’s dark scowl bore into the empty golden plate in front of him, which reflected back his distorted, angry image. “McGonagall said it was only fitting that I get detention as well…”

“Because you were out past curfew,” Lauren finished, placing her unfinished piece of toast back on her plate.

“Serves you right for trying to cause trouble,” Tracey muttered beside her, though low enough that Draco, thankfully, didn’t hear her.

“So any idea what you have to do for detention?” Lauren asked, turning her attention back to Draco.

Draco ruffled inside his robe pocket and produced a rumpled piece of parchment, which he handed to her without an utterance of a word.

Lauren smoothed the piece of paper out before her on the table and instantly recognized the sharp, yet elegant handwriting of Professor McGonagall, stating that his detention was to be served with Hagrid this upcoming Saturday night in the Forbidden Forest.

Lauren shuddered at the knowledge of the questionable creatures lurking deep within the forest, and had to contemplate the wisdom of McGonagall for issuing such a detention. Sending in teeny tiny eleven-year olds into the Forbidden Forest seemed rather extreme.

“Just…be careful,” Lauren murmured, handing him back the parchment, the image of giant spiders and the hooded Grim-Reaper-like figure of Quirrell/Voldemort drinking Unicorn blood springing to mind.

Draco frowned as he accepted his note back, levelling her with a look that bordered on puzzlement. It was then that Lauren comprehended that she had actually been somewhat kind towards him.

The ringing bell, thankfully, saved her from any further uncomfortable conversation that would have surely ensued after those words, and she and Tracey departed the Great Hall to begin the first lesson of the day.

~oOo~

That Friday evening Lauren stood behind her workstation, trying to concentrate on generating a Star Grass Salve, which was a slightly more complex variation of the simple Healing Salve. But her thoughts kept drifting to Draco’s upcoming detention, and she had come dangerously close a few times to burning the salve as a result. Absolute attention was required whilst brewing and her current state of distraction was not conductive at all.

Logically, she knew that they would all come out of the Forbidden Forest unscathed, maybe a bit shaken up, but still…

“Something on your mind, Miss Ward?” Snape’s silky voice sounded, slicing through her musings like the swishing of a sharp-edged blade.

Lauren startled and glanced down at her cauldron, only to witness the contents within congealing unappealingly. There was no saving this mess, she knew, and she doused the flame beneath the cauldron with a resigned sigh. She lifted her gaze to find Snape on the other side of her desk, observing her with those fathomless black eyes that revealed nothing. How long he had been standing there watching her, she had no idea.

“I expect mindless dithering from my other airheaded students, but not from you, Miss Ward. You disappoint me,” he drawled with his usual cutting derision.

Ignoring his jibe, Lauren asked in frustration, “How do you do it?”

“Be more specific, Miss Ward. I have neither the patience nor the inclination to decipher the true meaning behind your question.”

“How do you concentrate on say, brewing a potion, when the world’s going to shit and there are much more important things to worry about?” That was her roundabout way of enquiring as to how he was going to manage to stay focused on the mundane aspects of everyday life in the upcoming years, especially when things would become infinitely more stressful and bleaker for him.

Snape regarded her for a few heartbeats. If he suspected what she was truly asking, he did not show it. “That’s where controlling your emotions comes into play,” he finally stated in a dry tone. “Learning to focus and channel your energy on the task at hand must take precedence above all else. It’s simply a matter of compartmentalizing your emotions.”

“Easy as that?”

“No, it’s not as easy as that. It is all rather dependent on how strong-willed and strong-minded a person is.”

_Character traits that you, Severus Snape, possess._

Lauren nodded and ran her hand through her wild tresses, wishing she had thought to tie it up before she had begun brewing.

Her gaze landed once more on her cauldron and with a grimace, she extracted her wand from her pocket and cast the Evanesco spell, effectively vanishing the congealed sludge within.

Pocketing her wand, she glanced back up at Snape, who had silently observed her cast the spell, but true to his nature had not offered any hint of approval at her having successfully cast it.

“Do you know about Draco’s detention?”

Snape gave a single nod of his head, his lank hair that framed his face in a black curtain fluttering slightly at the movement. “I have heard, yes.”

Lauren frowned. “Don’t you think detention in the Forbidden Forest is a bit…extreme? Unethical even?”

Snape arched a brow. “Don’t tell me you have suddenly come to care about Draco’s safety, Miss Ward. Or is it Potter’s safety that concerns you more?” There was no mistaking the frostiness that had now entered his voice, morphing the silky baritone into something more ominous.

Lauren narrowed her eyes at his tone. “I am not without empathy. And even though I am not particularly fond of children, it doesn’t mean that I think sending them into a giant spider infested forest is a good idea.”

“Acromantula.”

“What?”

“That is the correct term for the species.”

Lauren rolled her eyes at his correction.

Snape slowly folded his arms, his hand cradling his elbow as he traced his bottom lip with his index finger in contemplative thought while he regarded her. “You profess to dislike children, yet I have noticed that you are particularly close to one…even going so far as to get into a physical fight to defend her and thus earning yourself an ongoing detention.”

“Tracey is an exception to the rule. She acts more like a miniature adult than a kid. Plus, I couldn’t get rid of her if I wanted to – she decided to stick to me like a Sticking Charm since my first day here.”

Snape openly smirked at her, clearly not believing her protests. Truthfully, Lauren didn’t believe them either. She didn’t want to be rid of Tracey. She had grown rather fond and protective over the girl - though she would never admit to it.

Snape surprised Lauren by changing tactic and choosing to answer her previous question. “I am opposed to the severity of the punishment. But seeing as it was Professor McGonagall who caught them out past curfew, it fell to her to issue the detention. It is entirely out of my hands.”

Lauren had to conceded that there was only so much power Snape had within the school walls.

“They’ll be fine,” she muttered, though whether it was to assure Snape or herself, she couldn’t tell.

“Which brings me to another issue,” Snape stated after a pause.

Lauren stilled, the slight inflection in his tone foretelling that she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“This will be our final…‘detention’.”

Her heart sank, for Lauren really did enjoy these private lessons with Snape. He truly was an exceptional teacher - when he wasn’t hellbent on being a snarky git.

“Getting bored of me already?” she asked with feigned indifference, glancing away and absently running her fingertip along a groove embedded into the rough wood of the workstation.

A soft snort sounded, but he didn’t answer her question. “McGonagall has grown suspicious at how long your detention has been going on for and has raised her concerns. I think it would be prudent to discontinue.”

Lauren wanted to protest, but once Snape had made up his mind, there was no changing it. Also, the last thing they needed was for the truth of what he was actually teaching Lauren during these so-called detentions to become known to the teachers and, by extension, Quirrell. That, most definitely, would not be good. For either of them.

“This should also free up you Friday evenings, in which you can dedicate more of your time to revision. Exams are almost upon us,” he continued.

Lauren groaned. “Don’t remind me. It’s bad enough that I have Tracey constantly hounding me to sit down and study – I don’t need you doing the same.”

He shot her an amused smirk.

Lauren lowered her gaze and murmured softly, “I am going to miss our lessons, though.”

Snape made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “I had thought you would be rather pleased at the thought of not having to endure my presence any more than you had to_._”

“No, that’s _you_ always proclaiming _that_,” she pointed out. “No, I rather enjoy our lessons together. Believe it or not, I have learned more from you these past three months than what I have in my entire bloody school career, and I am going to miss…” Lauren trailed off at the look Severus was giving her. Both brows were raised, and a rather arrogant, supercilious look now shadowed his features. A slight curl on his lips offset the effect, though, and by the wicked gleam in his eyes, it was almost as though he were daring her to continue. She shook her head. “I really need to work on developing the infamous Slytherin silver tongue. Or maybe learn to bite my tongue altogether.”

“It would be advisable, yes,” he sneered. As he turned his back on her in a billow of black, his words floated back to her. “Though I find I rather enjoy your bluntness, Miss Ward.”

Lauren was sure hell was freeing over at this very moment.

Finally she snapped out of her stupor. “My, all these compliments are going to make me think I’m your favorite, Professor Snape.”

The look he shot over his shoulder at her could have curdled milk, which only had her laughing out loud. She rather enjoyed wheedling a reaction out of him.

“And I, for my part, shall rather enjoy the blessed reprieve,” he grumbled.

Lauren shrugged, not taking his words to heart, especially not after what he had just admitted to her. With Snape, one needed a very thick skin - something Lauren had an abundance of. It also helped that she really didn’t give a damn what people thought of her. Oh, Snape could definitely drive the knife in deep and hurt her with an angry retort if he wanted to, but the fact that he wasn’t even trying right now was telling in itself.

~oOo~

The sight of a rather pale and shaken up Draco Malfoy greeted them Sunday morning, but by the end of the day he was regaling to whomever was willing to listen about how he had heroically faced down a gigantic, hideous monster in the forest.

Lauren rolled her eyes but was inwardly relieved that he was now bouncing back to his usual ferrety, annoying self.

The next two weeks flew by in an atmosphere of panicked chaos as everyone scrambled to revise and study, as well as complete last-minute essays that needed to be handed in.

Then all too soon their exams were upon them.

Lauren was half expecting Tracey to break down in a jittery mess but, outwardly, she radiated an aura of cool collectedness. This was in stark contrast to Hermione Granger, who was seen constantly muttering to herself in a frenzied manner as she held her book up to her nose as she walked down the hallways, or was constantly diving for a book in her bag during mealtimes with such regularity that Lauren was surprised that someone hadn’t smacked her upside the head yet.

No, Tracey’s unflustered demeanor was very much welcome.

The day of their first exams dawned and Tracey seated herself next to Lauren in the Great Hall, the only indication that she was anxious was the almost imperceptible wiping of her clammy palms against her robes.

“Nervous?” Lauren asked.

Tracey turned her head towards Lauren and gave her a very dour and very Wednesday Addams look. “We have been studying for almost three months, Lauren. If we are not prepared now, then we will never be,” she replied philosophically.

Tracey then turned her attention to the food before her and dished up a plate for herself, though Lauren noted that she merely pushed her scrambled eggs around the plate with her fork, clearly having lost her appetite.

“You’ll do great,” Lauren assured, bumping shoulders with her.

Tracey merely nodded her head and decided to drink her tea instead, too squeamish to even hold a conversation.

Soon the bell rang, signaling that they were to make their way to the assigned classrooms for their exams. As they filed in, Lauren squeezed Tracey’s shoulder in reassurance before making her way to her allocated desk.

She sat down and drew in a deep breath, pre-exams nerves noticeably absent. She had done this far too many times to be nervous anymore. She glanced over at Tracey, who was sitting with rigid poise, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

And then the exam started.

Maybe it was because she still possessed her adult mind and was able to focus more clearly because of it, or maybe it was because of all the studying she and Tracey had done, but Lauren found it hadn’t been as difficult as she had expected.

“How did it go?” Tracey asked as they exited the exam room.

Lauren shrugged. “It’s done now.” This had been but the first one, and they still had four more days to go before it was all finally over.

“Do you think you passed?”

“I’ll find out during the Summer holidays, won’t I,” Lauren pointed out. “Now stop stressing out.”

Tracey frowned at her friend’s unconcernedness, but Lauren noted that Tracey was less tense as the days wore on.

The last exam – History of Magic – finally drew to an end, and the school burst in a raucous and excited babble of activity as students ran through the halls, jubilant that it was all finally over.

Lauren and Tracey made their way down to the Black Lake to celebrate post-exam freedom, Lauren toting her bulging school bag over her shoulder.

“Why did you bring your school bag?” Tracey asked.

“You’ll see,” Lauren stated cryptically.

They found a sunny patch on the rolling green lawn and stretched out languidly upon the grass, the bright sun warming their bodies.

After about half an hour of just enjoying the peace, Lauren reached into her bag and pulled out the mountain of notes that she had accumulated over the school year. She had left her invaluable Potion notes safe and sound in her trunk, Snape having given her invaluable hinters and substitutes that could never be found in any textbook.

“What are you going to do with them?” Tracey asked, a slight tint of alarm entering her voice.

Lauren smirked. “Watch.”

She flung a piece of paper up into the air and then aimed her wand at it, sending it bursting into flames.

Tracey gasped in shock. “Lauren! You…you can’t!”

“Why not? It’s not like we need them anymore,” Lauren remarked as another piece of parchment met the same fate. “Come on, join me.”

Tracey’s eyes flickered to Lauren’s bag. “Are there textbooks in there?”

“Yup.”

Tracey shook her head vigorously from side to side. “No! Do what you like to your notes, but you are NOT going to destroy those books.”

Lauren’s grin widened, for Tracey’s bookish nature and her love for reading was coming to the forefront.

Tracey scooped up her bag, hugging it protectively to her chest. “I’m taking these back to our room.”

Lauren shrugged. She hadn’t really planned on destroying the books, but it was fun to make Tracey think so. “Okay but bring that timetable of yours back.” At the look that crossed Tracey’s face, Lauren continued slyly, “I know you secretly drew one up. Time to destroy the blasted thing, Tracey.”

Tracey backed away.

“The textbooks for the timetable,” Lauren bargained, sending another sheet of paper into a ball of flames.

Tracey sighed in defeat and turned around, making her way back up to the castle.

“Need some help, Ward?” a familiar drawl sounded, and Lauren turned to see Draco approaching her, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Show me your moves then, Malfoy,” she challenged, handing him a stack of papers.

The next hour passed with Draco and Lauren taking turns obliterating the notes, the challenge notching up a bit as they tried to turn their flames red or green, extra points given if they managed to make the notes explode and shower them with confetti. The crowd that had now gathered cheered enthusiastically at the show, though Lauren noted that it was mostly Slytherins, with a few Hufflepuffs sprinkled in between. The passing Ravenclaws and Gryffindors shot them disapproving glares, but Lauren didn’t care. If she couldn’t have a post-exam drink, then this was the next best thing to let off some steam.

The notes reduced to nothing but ash now, the crowd dispersed, leaving Lauren and Draco alone.

Draco eyed her and then in a surprising move, he extended his hand. “Next year again?”

Lauren shook his proffered hand. “You bet.”

Lauren watched as Draco headed to the Quad and then she decided to head back to their dorm to find Tracey. She had been gone for a suspiciously long time.

_Maybe she’s trying to find a safe place to hide those textbooks – and her timetable,_ she mused to herself.

But Tracey was neither to be found in the Common room nor in their bedroom. Not even Lauren’s rescued schoolbag was anywhere to be seen. A sinking feeling was starting to form in the pit of Lauren’s stomach like a lead ball.

_She must be somewhere else in the castle, _Lauren thought to herself as she wandered back to the Common Room.

Just then Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent entered the room, giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves.

“Hey,” Lauren stated, approaching them. “Have you guys seen Tracey?”

“Yeah,” Daphne said, twirling a strand of her sleek hair around her finger. “I saw her and Professor Quirrell together about an hour ago. I think they were heading back to his classroom.”

The blood drained from Lauren’s face.

_Okay, don’t panic. Maybe Tracey wanted to speak to Quirrell about the exam paper…_

“Did she seem okay?”

Pansy shrugged. “I suppose.”

The girls left, oblivious to the bubbling panic rising in Lauren like acid, threatening to claw her insides raw.

_Tracey is alone with that creep…But why? Quirrell doesn’t want her, he wants me, _she pondered as she tried to quell her rising fear.

_No! _she realized with horror. _He’s using Tracey as bait to lure me to him. _Lauren suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

_Fuck! _Her mind screamed in frustration.

Lauren sucked in a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. If Quirrell thought she was going to play hero and go running to the rescue without a plan like some foolish Gryffindor, he was sorely mistaken.

She needed help and there was one person she knew and trusted enough to go to for said help.

Lauren marched over to the door and yanked it open forcibly before making her way to Professor Snape’s classroom, her heart beating frantically the whole time in her chest. She struggled to tamp down her terror, willing herself to remain calm and clear-minded. She could not afford to give over to the drowning emotion. Not now.

She reached the familiar door of the Potions classroom in record time, and Lauren reached out to grab the door handle.

But before her hand could even so much as wrap around it, Lauren was suddenly frozen in place.

_What the fuck?!_

Then her body was falling towards the floor and Lauren was helpless to save herself. But before her she hit the ground, she was levitated up into the air.

Slowly she was revolved around, coming face to face with Quirrell.

And he looked rather pleased with himself.

_Fu-_

Before she could finish that mental curse, her world was plunged into pitch black oblivion.


	19. Chapter 19

Lauren awoke with a start, a ragged gasp escaping her lips and her heart beating an incessant pounding tempo within her chest.

_What in bleeding Tarnation happened? Where the hell am I? _

Then the memory of Quirrell ambushing her outside Snape’s classroom flooded her head like a torrential river, leaving curling tendrils of dread and terror in its wake.

Lauren’s flight instinct kicked in and she tried to struggle in an upright position, but found she was unable to move a muscle. She was effectively frozen in place.

_The bastard used a Full Body-Bind Curse on me! _she thought with mounting irritation, her initial fear being fast chased away by righteous anger. _When I get out of this, I am going to throttle his scrawny neck so hard that it will rattle that blasted turban right off his head!_

“Good, you’re awake,” a voice sounded somewhere to her left. It took Lauren a moment to recognize it as belonging to Quirrell, as his usual nervous stuttering was now absent, replaced by a cold sharp tone. “As you may have noticed, I have taken necessary precautions.”

_No shit, Captain Obvious!_

Suddenly her body was being levitated from the hard, stone floor and Lauren was directed into a nearby chair, surprisingly with more gentleness than she had expected. Once settled, the Body-Bind curse was lifted from her body. But before Lauren could even so much as twitch a muscle, coils of rope instantly wrapped themselves tightly around her, pinning her firmly in place.

Lauren grunted as she tested the ropes that bound her wrists to the armrests of the chair, but they were tight enough to almost cut off circulation. Quirrell, it would seem, wasn’t going to take any chances when it came to her.

Though she had to wonder why he had replaced the Body-Bind curse with ropes to begin with.

_Maybe Quirrell’s not as skilled as Snape and doesn’t know how to partially release it like him. But I’m still stuck with no way of escaping this._

Lauren slowly raised her head and levelled Quirrell with a murderous glare. He merely smirked back smugly at her.

“I couldn’t risk you escaping…or using your powers against me.”

“It’s not my powers you’re going to have to worry when I break free_,” _Lauren growled, wanting nothing more than to break his nose with a well-aimed punch.

A villainous chuckle bubbled from him, Quirrell clearly not the least bit concerned now that she was safely secured and restrained.

“You’re very powerful…what you did to those three Gryffindors…” Quirrell mused, eying her speculatively as though he were a scientist that had been presented with a particularly interesting specimen; a specimen that needed to be dissected to discover all of its secrets.

Lauren should have been afraid by that look alone, but another thought was sneaking its way into her head.

_Interesting…He assumes that I cast that spell alone. That must mean he has no idea that I was channeling Severus’ magic when I attacked those boys…He has no idea about the magical bond Snape and I share. _Lauren’s frown became less pronounced as she pondered this revelation. _That’s good. That’s very good. Voldemort must never find out…_

Their secret was safe. But for now she was still very much a captive and she was going to have to find a way out of this.

“So why exactly do you want me?”

“I don’t want you.”

Lauren rolled her eyes dramatically, her feigned bravado very much in contradiction with the pounding of her heart. “Silly me, I should have been more specific. Why does _Voldemort _want me?”

Quirrell’s smirk slowly faded, his face becoming a mask of all seriousness. “You will prove to be useful. My Master very much wants your power.”

Lauren frowned. The fact that Quirrell hadn’t killed her yet was a good sign, but that didn’t mean that what he had in store for her was going to be good either. “And in order to obtain my power, he needs to…what? Possess me?”

“No, you silly girl.”

Lauren let out a _whoosh_ of relief. “Oh good! For a moment there I thought he was harboring a secret desire to become female. That would have posed a problem, though, as he would then have to change his title to maybe Lady Voldemort, or Mistress Voldemort, or Your Royal Highness…”

“Silence!” Quirrell shouted, his face contorting into a mask of rage at the blasphemous way Lauren was insulting his Master.

Lauren gave him her best doe-eyed look and asked innocently, “Dame Voldemort?”

Quirrell looked as though he were going to burst a couple of blood vessels, and Lauren knew it was best not to push him any further.

“Okay, okay,” Lauren said in all seriousness now. “So why does he really want me?”

“Not _you,_” Quirrell seethed, visibly trying to calm himself, though she did notice his left eye twitching. “It’s not you he wants, Miss Ward, but rather your blood.”

“My…_blood?_” Lauren asked, sure she hadn’t heard right. “Whatever for?”

A shrewd look slowly crept onto his face as he started pacing unhurriedly in front of her.

“Certain information has come to light.”

“What information?” she asked suspiciously, her narrowed eyes following his every move.

“That you cheated death.” He paused for dramatic effect. “That you came back from the dead after being murdered.”

All the blood drained from Lauren’s face.

_Fuck! He knows!_

Witnessing the horror that was now writ all over her face, Quirrell halted his pacing and turned to face her head-on, his eyes gleaming with an ominous light. When he spoke again his voice held an edge of superior smugness. “Oh yes, I know all about your little secret. I overheard you telling Professor Snape. Your blood holds the key to immortality!”

Her breaths started coming out in shallow gasps, and Lauren was sure she was going to hyperventilate.

_Nope, this is most definitely not good!_

Lauren closed her eyes tightly and breathed in deeply, willing herself to calm down, drawing on her Occlumency lessons to do so. Right now she needed to keep a level head if she had any hope of getting out of this alive.

And right now Quirrell was willing to talk. If Lauren had learned one thing from all the movies she had watched, it was crucial to keep the bad guys talking and distracted.

Blinking open her eyes, Lauren stared back at Quirrell with deceptive calmness. “So Voldemort thinks that my blood will give him the power to cheat death? He thinks that it will give him immortality?”

Quirrell hummed an affirmative.

Her brows knitted together in a frown. “So why are we here trying to get the Stone then?”

Quirrell eyed her as though he were contemplating how much to tell her. “The Philosopher’s Stone will give my Master a new body; a stronger form…he is but a husk of his former glory. Your blood, my dear, will then give him immeasurable power and the ability to cheat death.”

_Well shit. Voldemort is, quite literally, baying for my blood._

Lauren swallowed thickly and cast her gaze around the cold barren room. “Well, you’re missing the Pentagram. You’re going to need that if you’re planning to offer me up as a human sacrifice,” she retorted dryly. Then her eyes landed on the Mirror of Erised, which was situated behind Quirrell, and she shot him a sly look. “You haven’t figured out how to get the Stone yet, have you?”

Quirrell made an irritable sound in the back of his throat and abruptly turned his back on her to study the mirror.

Lauren chuckled in sardonic delight. “Oh, this is perfect! Ironic really. You’re so close, yet so unbelievably far. Her Royal Highness is going to be _royally _pissed at you if you don’t hurry up and get it.”

“Shut up!”

Lauren decided to obey, but only because she needed to think of a way to get out of this mess. Right now she was safe just as long as the Stone remained hidden, but she didn’t fancy sitting around waiting for a savior either.

The minutes ticked by, Quirrell’s quiet puzzling now morphing into agitated pacing as he tried to figure out the riddle the Mirror represented.

Lauren tested her restraints again, but they refused to budge. She glanced over at Quirrell, who was now muttering to himself, and she decided to try the oldest trick in the book.

“I need to go pee.”

Quirrell threw her a derisive look over his shoulder in reply.

“It was worth a shot,” Lauren muttered mulishly.

More minutes ticked by. Quirrell’s pacing had halted and he was now standing in front of the mirror, running his hand over the gilded frame, a deep frown marring his features.

“Need help?” she asked innocently.

“I’d be a fool to free you from your bonds,” he murmured, his eyes never straying from the reflective surface of the mirror.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “You’re a fool anyway for letting Voldemort latch himself to the back of your head. I applaud you for your loyalty, but you have to admit that your fanatical devotion is a bit…cultish, don’t you think? Not to mention it’s somewhat gross.”

Quirrell slowly turned around to face her, his eyes flashing with the renowned Ravenclaw intelligence. “How did you know that I am hiding my Master beneath this turban?”

“The same way that I know how to obtain the Stone,” she shot back.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Then he reached into his pocket and slowly withdrew his wand, pointing it at Lauren.

_Oh shit! I went too far. He’s going to Crucio me for sure, _Lauren thought as renewed fear coursed through her veins.

Instead, her rope bonds fell away like wisps of smoke and she glanced up in surprise at Quirrell, who still had his wand pointed directly at her, his hand sure and steady.

“Try anything and I’ll torture you into insanity, Miss Ward. My Master doesn’t require you mind, after all,” he threatened.

“No, only my blood,” she remarked, rubbing her throbbing wrists.

“Yes. Now get the Stone.” Quirrell nudged his head in the direction of the Mirror, and Lauren took this as her cue. She rose slowly to her feet and approached him with wary caution. He, for his part, kept his unblinking gaze trained on her, his wand never wavering.

Lauren halted in front of the mirror and breathed in deeply through her nose. The last time she had gazed upon it, it had revealed nothing to her.

But when she turned her attention to the Mirror, the vision it now presented to her was very, very different.

Her adult self was staring back at her, midnight blue meeting midnight blue. There was something subtly different about her older image, though. Gone was the hard edge that usually resided in her eyes, and in its place was a radiant, almost peaceful light that Lauren had never witnessed on herself before.

A smile, one which was genuine and unguarded, crept onto her image’s face, casting her entire features into what Lauren could only describe as contented bliss. She looked genuinely happy.

_Happiness…_Lauren realized with a start. _My greatest desire is to be happy…_

Then movement behind her adult image caught her attention. A figure, obscured in swirling and misty shadows, came to stand beside her, his or her features completely unidentifiable. Her adult image turned her head to look up at the mysterious person, her features morphing into that of undisguised adoration.

The misty shadow reached out enfolded her protectively into its arms. The smile never wavered from her reflection’s face; in fact, her radiance seemed to intensify in the presence of this mysterious figure.

_…Or could it be that I desire to find true love? _Lauren had to tamp down the derisive snort that wanted to burst forth from her. She was far beyond jaded, and as such did not believe in those nonsensical ideologies.

But the more she stared at the image before her, the more she had to concede that there was something beautiful in this false promise it enticingly presented. _Someone who completes me and will stand by my side through thick and thin. Someone who loves me for who I am…_

Lauren shook her head. _There’s no such thing!_

Regardless of her true thoughts, Lauren could not seem to tear her gaze away from the mirror_. Who is this mystery figure?_

She squinted, edging closer to the mirror, but the figure remained stubbornly obscure.

“Well?”

Lauren blinked, jarred from of her musings by Quirrell’s impatient question. She had to admit to herself that it was just as well he had distracted her, for it would have been extremely easy to become lost in the powerful longing the mirror was trying to stir within her.

Right now she had bigger problems to worry about, though. It was now time to focus and get back on track; not get lost in the false hope that this deceitful mirror had shown her.

“It’s showing me what I truly desire,” she murmured, making sure her body was angled in such a way that Quirrell couldn’t see her reaching into her robe pocket.

“It’s the Mirror of Erised – it’s supposed to do that. Now, you said you knew how to get the Stone.”

Lauren eyed her reflection, willing her heartrate to slow down. “I do. I know how to get the Stone.”

“Then get on with it.”

Her hand inched deeper into her pocket as she searched for her wand, her heart sinking when she grasped at nothing but thin air. It wasn’t there.

_Where is it? Is it in the other pocket? _Lauren was going to have to distract him in order to search for it.

“Um, yeah. There’s a slight problem with that.” she muttered, surreptitiously withdrawing her hand.

“What problem?” he asked, his voice hitching with irritability.

Lauren drew in a deep steadying breath and turned to face Quirrell. “Only the one who desires the Stone can get it. I have no desire to get my hands on it.”

Quirrell’s jaw clenched, a vein visibly throbbing at his temple, and Lauren hastened on.

“But you do…” she hinted, nudging her head towards the mirror.

Quirrell glanced over at the Mirror of Erised, and Lauren used the opportunity to plunge her hand into her other pocket.

_Empty, _she thought, a lead ball forming in the pit of her stomach at this realization.

“Looking for this?”

Her head snapped up to see Quirrell tauntingly holding up her wand.

“Nice try,” he sneered, advancing towards her with quick strides, causing Lauren to back up. Her back hit the rough stone wall and Quirrell was suddenly in front of her, stooping so that he was now eye level with her. His wand was pointed dangerously at her temple.

Lauren swallowed hard, plainly scared now.

“Did you really think that lie would work with me?” he growled.

“No,” Lauren whispered, bracing herself against the wall and willing herself to remain calm. “But I was hoping this would!”

She slammed her head forward, headbutting Quirrell squarely in the nose with a satisfying _scrunch_.

Quirrell flailed back in a howl of pain, clutching at his profusely bleeding, and obviously, broken nose.

Lauren didn’t hesitate and used the opportunity to make a run for it. But Quirrell was quicker and his spell hit her right in the middle of her back, sending Lauren flying. She didn’t have time to brace herself and hit hard against the rough stone wall with a sickening _thud_.

Lauren slumped to the floor in a crumpled heap, dazed. Blackness was quickly edging in on her line of vision, threatening to consume her entirely.

Just before she lost consciousness, Lauren spotted the small figure of Harry Potter standing at the top of the stairs, his green eyes wide at the violent scene he had just witnessed.

_Oh look, the cavalry has arrived…Foolish Gryffindor. _This was her last thought before oblivion pulled her deep under its spell.

~oOo~

The scent of old parchment and sandalwood permeated her senses, trying to coax her groggy mind to the land of the living. She would recognize that particular scent anywhere.

Lauren was hazily aware of strong arms enveloping her, carrying her with protective care.

Lauren wished she had never woken up for an encompassing pain was now slicing through her head. A groan escaped her lips and she blindly reached up, clutching feebly at the thick robes that encompassed the person who was carrying her.

Her magic swirled weakly, a feeble attempt to reach out to Severus’ own.

“Severus,” she mumbled, her words muffled as he cradled her more tightly against him.

“I’m here,” he replied with uncharacteristic softness.

Knowing she was now safe, Lauren relinquished her hold on consciousness, the blessed darkness crashing in on her and chasing away the pain.

~oOo~

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!”

Snape’s shout echoed through the quiet, effectively jolting Lauren awake with a start. She glanced wildly around, slightly disorientated, until she realized she was in the Hospital Wing, the curtains drawn tight around her bed and hiding her from view.

There was a murmured response, but Snape abruptly cut off whomever he was shouting at.

“It could have ended much, much worse!”

_Who is Snape shouting at? _Lauren wondered as she slowly sat up, her ears straining to catch the argument that was unravelling on the other side of the curtain.

“Severus -.”

_Ah, he’s arguing with Dumbledore. _

“I warned you about Quirrell! Miss Ward warned you. And what did you do? You completely ignored us and chose to continue on with this foolishness of testing the boy’s mettle. Your folly almost cost Miss Ward her life!”

Lauren frowned. She had never heard Snape as livid as what he was right now – not even when she had tapped into his magic. He had been furious then, but that was pale in comparison to now.

There was a poignant poise.

“You have come to care for her,” Dumbledore mused in his rumbly tone.

There was a derisive scoff. “Do not change the subject or play your mind games with me, old man. The fact of the matter is that you intentionally put her life in danger. Potter’s as well, but we both know that you would not have let any harm come to him.”

“Severus, Miss Ward is fine -.”

“_Fine_?” Snape snarled. “She suffered a fractured skull, Dumbledore!”

Lauren reached up and tentatively prodded her skull with her fingertips. There was very little pain associated with her ministrations, and she had to assume that Madam Pomfrey had already patched her up as good as new.

“She would not have come to any harm in the first place if you had just heeded our warning,” Severus continued in a scathing tone.

Lauren frowned at the implications of his words. It sounded almost as though he did care about her. The memory of him carrying her filtered into her brain, leaving an odd puzzling sensation within her chest.

“Your protectiveness over her is…unusual,” Dumbledore stated, puzzlement clear in his tone.

Lauren could picture Snape glaring balefully back at the Headmaster at that comment.

“Am I to assume that you have come to regard her as a friend, perhaps?”

Snape remained stoically silent. Lauren held her breath at the ratcheting tension building up from the other side of the curtain.

“Or is there more to it?” There was an edge to the Headmaster’s voice.

“Don’t be absurd,” Severus snapped disgustedly, his repulsion ringing loud and clear through the room. “She is but a child.”

Lauren’s frown morphed into a scowl.

_I’m not a child, you bloody git! How many times do I have to tell you that?!_

“In body, yes -.”

“She. Is. A. Child,” Snape growled, enunciating each syllable precisely and leaving no doubt in anybody’s mind as to how he really viewed Lauren. “Physically, she is most definitely a child. Your insinuation that I would even dare cross that line is offensive.”

“I am relieved to hear that, Severus, but I was not insinuating anything of the sort. If I had had any doubts about your moral code in that regard, I would not have hired you in the first place. But something has happened; something that has made you fiercely protective over her.”

“Nothing has happened,” Snape bit back.

“Ah, but I think something has…” Dumbledore trailed off, obviously pondering the odd friendship that had developed between Snape and Lauren.

“That is none of your concern,” Snape warned, his tone ominously dangerous.

“From what I have observed, your interactions with Miss Ward would almost suggest a connection…” Dumbledore stopped abruptly, almost as though a light bulb had gone off in his head.

The silence that followed was almost suffocating.

“Is Miss Ward aware?”

_Aware of what? _

“We have discussed it, yes,” Snape replied reticently.

“A discussion and a full explanation are two entirely different matters, Severus.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Severus snapped, the sounds of his retreating steps echoing through the Hospital Wing.

“This is serious, Severus. A magical bond is -.”

“I am fully aware of what a magical bond means, and I have no wish to discuss it with you. Not now. Not ever.” The sound of the door slamming shut indicated that Severus had left.

Lauren sat in her bed, unmoving, and her mind buzzing with the conversation that had just taken place.

_So there’s more to this magical connection than what Severus had originally led me to believe…_

And by the sounds of it, Severus Snape had no intentions of ever fully explaining it to her.

_But why? What is it about our bond that scares him so much?_

“How much did you hear, Miss Ward?” Dumbledore’s voice punctured through her swarming thoughts.

“All of it,” Lauren admitted, her tone oddly detached.

The curtains drew back to reveal Dumbledore in all his maroon-decked glory, his chiming bell tied around his beard. He peered down at her with kind, albeit sympathetic, eyes as he edged closer to her side.

“How serious is this bond?”

Dumbledore regarded her for a few moments, intelligence shining brightly in those twinkling blue eyes. “It all rather depends on how you look at it.”

“And how am I supposed to look at it? I was merely told that this bond enables us to draw on each other’s magic and enhance our power.”

Dumbledore gave her a small smile, which was almost hidden by his long silvery beard, and Lauren had the distinct impression that he was feeling sorry for her.

“What does this bond actually mean?” Lauren pressed.

“In a sense, what Severus told you was correct,” he replied, settling down upon the mattress near her feet with a regretful sigh passing through his lips. “The more complex nature of the bond, though, is a conversation that is best left between you and Severus, as it involves you two alone.”

“I’m asking you.”

Dumbledore merely stared back at her, that infuriatingly secretive smile twitching on his lips. It was clear he was not going to cave and tell her everything.

“Do you really think Professor Snape is going to offer up a full explanation to me.”

“I certainly hope so. Though, knowing Severus, he won’t do so until he well and truly ready.”

Lauren wanted to growl in frustration. _Why couldn’t these two morons be more forthcoming with her?_

“When you said this bond was serious, did you mean good serious or bad serious?” she asked instead, trying for a new angle.

“Again, it all depends on how you look at it.”

“You know, I think you get a real kick out of riling people up with all your ridiculously cryptic riddles.”

An amused chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Personally, I think it’s a ‘good serious’. Severus, on the other hand, probably doesn’t view it as such. But then again, he has always mistrusted anything that can be perceived as good, especially when it is directed at him…” Dumbledore trailed off, his eyes boring into her with thoughtfulness that bordered on intense. “But that is all I will say on the matter. Now,” he said, clasping his hands in his lap and his demeanor now morphing to that of the powerful wizard he truly was, “we need to discuss what happened tonight.”

“Yes, we do,” Lauren replied. She had every intention of giving him a piece of her mind for ignoring both her and Snape’s warning.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled brighter as he observed the ire writ all over her features. “You are understandably angry. So was Severus, as you have already heard. My reasons for ignoring your misgivings were not out of folly, but rather because I needed to learn the true reason as to why Voldemort really wanted to get his hands on you.” He paused here, arching a bushy brow as he patiently, almost serenely, waited for her to fill in the gaps.

Lauren decided to comply. “Quirrell…err, Voldemort, overheard me telling Professor Snape that Deacon had murdered me. He now has the ridiculous idea that my blood will somehow give him immortality, and maybe even make him more powerful.”

Dumbledore nodded as though this all made perfect sense. “I take it that he does not know that you come from another world? Or that you harbor dangerous knowledge as to how future events will play out?”

Lauren cast her mind back to her conversation with Quirrell. “I don’t think so. He also didn’t have a clue about this bond that has formed between Professor Snape and I.”

“That’s good,” Dumbledore murmured, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “He must never find out. But I’m afraid, my dear,” he stated, his focus sharpening, “that from here on out, your safety cannot be guaranteed while Voldemort still exists. His sights are now set on you and he will try and get his hands on you again once he becomes strong enough.”

Lauren sighed and shifted back so that she was now leaning back against the iron rail headboard of the bed, the bars digging in uncomfortably into her back. “That gives me three years then.”

Three years of peace. And three years to learn to defend herself properly. Lauren was not some Victorian damsel in distress, and she had every intention of defending herself by any means possible.

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed behind his half-moon glasses at her comment, but he made no remark. Instead he rose stiffly to his feet and closed the distance, clasping a gnarled hand upon her shoulder. “Get some rest, Miss Ward. When you are ready, I would like for you to come to my office. There are some other matters I need to discuss with you.”

“About?”

“Your family manor is move-in ready. That means that we need to your potential guardians.”

Lauren immediately straightened up, Dumbledore now having her full attention. “Who do you have in mind?”

Dumbledore merely patted her shoulder and flashed her his trademark secretive smile. “Stop by tomorrow morning and find out.” With that parting remark, he left the Hospital Wing in a billow of maroon, his movements more agile than what his outwardly aged appearance suggested.

Lauren huffed and settled into bed, staring up at the arched ceiling. Her mind was a swirling, jumbled mess of cycling thoughts and questions.

_Who does Dumbledore have in mind to be my guardian? Do I even want a guardian? No, I most certainly do not. I am not a child, goddammit! And what is Severus hiding with regards to this bond? _

Lauren would get the answer to one of her questions in the morning – something she was already dreading.

As for her other question, well, Snape held the answer to that. Problem was, he had no intention of telling.


	20. Chapter 20

The scent of parchment and sandalwood permeated her senses, penetrating through the deep and murky haze of her sleep; infiltrating her dream like a creeping, clawing shadow. It was a scent she was all too familiar with, and Lauren stirred, struggling to waken from the heavy blanket of sleep.

_Severus..._

She blearily blinked open her leaden eyelids, struggling to focus on her surroundings. The bright silvery moonlight filtered through the windows into the darkened room of the Hospital Wing, casting long inky shadows upon the walls of the room.

Lauren slowly sat up in her bed, her gaze searching for the person who had roused her from her sleep. But she realized that she was completely alone, except for the prone form of an unconscious Harry Potter nestled in one of the other beds on the other side of the room.

Her brows furrowed into a confused frown, for Lauren was sure she hadn’t imagined the familiar scent of Severus Snape, whomshe was certain had been right there next to her, watching her while sheslept.

But the lack of his presence contradicted that notion entirely.

Her gaze swept over the room once more, probing each and every shadow, but after a few minutes she had to concede that she had probably imagined that he had been here.

Lauren settled back under the covers and soon her eyes grew heavy, sleep soon dragging her once more under its intoxicating spell.

~oOo~

“Lauren.”

The soft voice called out to her, willing her to wake, and Lauren blinked open her eyes in compliance. Bright sunlight now blanketed the room in golden warmth, having long since chased away the shadows of the night. Her gaze landed on Tracey, who was standing beside her bed and eyeing her with concern.

Lauren bolted upright, drawing Tracey into a rib-crushing hug as she held onto her friend with a fierceness that was almost unnerving in its intensity. Tracey choked out a sound of surprise, but once she had recovered from her initial shock, she returned the embrace, patting Lauren’s back in reassurance.

“I thought that bastard had hurt you,” Lauren mumbled, finally releasing her iron grip on her friend. Her gaze raked over Tracey’s form, searching for any signs that she had been harmed. If that good-for-nothing scumbag had left so much as a scratch on her little friend, Lauren vowed she was going to find a way to return Quirrell from the dead and kill him all over again.

“No, I’m fine, Lauren. Really,” Tracey assured as she settled into the chair that was positioned next to her bed.Lauren briefly wondered if Snape had sat in thatvery chair, his fathomless dark eyes watching her while she had slept last night.

Lauren discarded the thought. Snape was not a person who sat by someone’s bedside keeping vigil.

She instead focused on Tracey. “What happened?”

Tracey glanced down sheepishly at her hands clasped in her lap. “Professor Quirrell asked to speak to me privately about my exam paper. I thought I had done something wrong, or was in trouble, and I went with him. As soon as I stepped into his classroom, everything went black.”

Lauren clenched her fists at the imagery that sprang to mind.

But another more disturbing realization surfaced. Quirrell had figured out that Lauren was protective over Tracey and had used this knowledge to use her friend as bait. He had also known that Lauren would immediately go straight to Snape for help. This foretold that Quirrell had been watching the two of them closely for some time, and this knowledge unnerved Lauren above all else. Voldemort, if he was still intent on getting his hands on her, would exploit this in the future when he returned to power.

She eyed Tracey, wondering how she was going to keep her safe in the upcoming years?

“I woke up to Dumbledore standing over me. He must have woken me up,” Tracey continued, unaware of Lauren’s inner turmoil. Her next question, though, had Lauren’s undivided attention. “What...what happened to you, Lauren?”

Lauren met her friend’s inquiring gaze and she briefly debated whether to lie to her.

_A_ sly voice sounded in the back of her head, though. _Dumbledore didn’t say I could__n’__t tell anyone what had happened..._

Lauren drew in a deep breath and levelled Tracey with a direct gaze as she recounted all that had happened. Tracey’s eyes grew wider as the tale unfolded andby the end of Lauren’s story, she was in a shell-shocked state.

“He...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?” she asked, a quiver to her voice.

“Yes and no,” Lauren stated evenly. “He was never gone, Tracey. He was just hiding, weakened and existing as a mere spectre; a ghost of his former self. But he will return to power, give or take a few years.”

Tracey blinked back at Lauren, almost as though she didn’t recognize the person in front of her. “How do you know he will return? Harry Potter defeated him again, didn’t he?”

Lauren gnawed on her bottom lip, knowing full well she couldn’t tell Tracey the truth.

_And how does one explain Horcruxes to a child? _

“Vol -.” Lauren faltered at the sharp hiss that passed through Tracey’s lips at the mention of Voldemort’s name, and quickly amended. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not so easy to kill. He will return to power and when he does, it’s going to be an all-out War.”

Tracey’s already pale features had now turned ashen, and Lauren could see her visibly swallowing down the hard lump that had formed in her throat. Lauren was starting to regret telling her the truth. But, surprisingly, Tracey’s more logical and practical side kicked in, and after a few moment’s of thoughtful contemplation, she returned to the present and locked eyes with Lauren.

“When..._H__e_ returns, you’re going to be in terrible danger, Lauren. You know that, right?”

Lauren was unable to meet her gaze, having already come to the same conclusion herself, but she was more worried about Tracey and Snape’s safety than her own. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbled. She drew in a deep breath and, with great effort, she forced herself to meet Tracey’s gaze, which was swimming with abject fear and concern. “But it will take him a few years to return to power, so I have time to prepare.” This was said more to reassure Tracey than herself.

Tracey shot her a skeptical look; one very similar to the one Snape donned when he thought a person was being more dense than what he had originally given them credit for. Lauren couldn’t much blame Tracey for doubting her, for three years was nowhere enough time to learn how to properly defend herself. “He’s a powerful wizard, Lauren, rivalled only by Dumbledore himself.”

Lauren leaned her head back against the iron headboard of her bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering, not for the first time, how her life had come to this. “Then I’m going to have to get all the help I can get...” In fact, she already had someone in mind whom she could enlist to help her in that particular department. But this was another bit of information she could not impart upon her friend. The less Tracey knew, the better.

Her eyes flickered to Tracey, who was frowning hard, her brows almost knitted together, and Lauren decided to placate her and hopefully veer her off topic.

“I’m sure Dumbledore has my best interest at heart, considering that he has gone to a lot of trouble to ensure the manor I inherited isn’t cursed or anything. I’m pretty certain he has also added some extra security measures himself...I’ll have to ask him when I go and see him after breakfast.”

“Why are you meeting with him?”

Unable to hide the disgust that had crept onto her features, Lauren stated, “He intends to reveal who my new guardian is going to be.”

Tracey gaped at her. “Guardian?” She paused, and Lauren could practically hear the cogs spinning in her head. “Of course. You’re underage and need a guardian. Do you have any idea who he has in mind?”

“Knowing the sadistic old sod, it’s not someone I’m going to particularly like.”

Tracey giggled, the light returning to her eyes now that they were discussing a less ominous subject. “You don’t like anyone.”

“Not true. I like you well enough!”

Tracey shook her head, a wide grin plastered on her face. “He might choose Professor Snape to be your guardian! Imagine that!”

Lauren shot her friend an offended scowl, which only had Tracey laughing even harder. But her scowl ebbed into a thoughtful frown as she considered what Tracey had just said.

_Would Dumbledore actually suggest Severus? _

Lauren wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Snape being chosen to be her warden.

On the one hand, there were certain advantage to that prospect. Lauren was fully aware that her limited skill sets would barely keep her alive for two minutes max in a fight against Voldemort. Even if, by some improbability, she could learn everything in three meagre years, she still wouldn’t stand a chance in hell against such a powerful wizard. Snape could teach her to duel, though. He had been the only one willing to take the time to teach her anything lifesaving and useful, andshe knew Severus would help her in any way that he could.

But when Voldemort returned to power and was back to being a tyrannical wizard with severely warped ideologies, Snape was going to be under unimaginable stress when he resumed being the penultimate spy. He would be very severely limited from there on out as to how much he could help her, especially if Voldemort suspected that a friendship had been forged between them. And Lauren could not risk Snape blowing his cover, not even for her. Being her guardian would put him considerably in more danger, especially if he tried to protect her by withholding handing her over to Her Royal Highness.

If there was one thing she had learned from her run-in with Quirrell, it was that it was perilous to care for anyone.

_To care about someone also means _ _that person can be used against you. To care is a _ _liability_ _..._ _Maybe that’s why Severus is adamant about not getting too close to me._

Coming to that conclusion, Lauren sincerely hoped that Dumbledore did not choose Snape.

~oOo~

Once Lauren was given the all clear from Madam Pomfrey, she and Tracey headed back to their dorm room so that Lauren could get cleaned up and dress in fresh change of clothes before heading off to breakfast.

As they passed along the hallways, many students blatantly stopped and stared at her, not even bothering to hide it.

“What’s their problem?” Lauren muttered, wishing for nothing more than her much needed and anticipated intake of caffeine in the form of a steaming cup of tea.

“Somebody saw Professor Snape carrying you to the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore following close behind carrying Harry Potter. Word soon spread, as it usually does in this school, and almost everyone is convinced that you and Harry got into a scrap.”

Lauren snorted, wondering how the dunderheads that roamed this school had jumped to that conclusion.

They arrived at the Slytherin Common Room and, upon entrance, a deep hush descended upon all the occupants within. Lauren froze, staring back at the sea of faces that were ogling her. The moment stretched out painfully, making Lauren distinctly uncomfortable.

“Is it true that you and Potter got into a fight?” Draco finally piped up from somewhere in the back of the room, breaking the silence.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “No, you moron. If I had fought Potter, it would have only been him that would have ended up in the Hospital Wing. Not me.”

Draco sniggered. “That I believe. So what really happened?”

Lauren eyed him, internally wondering how much to really tell the collected group before her. It was one thing to reveal what had really happened to Tracey; it was another to reveal the whole truth to the group that were essentially made up of a bunch of kids. She decided to go for a more PG version instead.

“Quirrell kinda went off the deep end and attacked us.”

“What?” Pansy gasped.

“But why?” Gemma the Prefect interjected at the same time.

Lauren shrugged. “Who really knows how the mind of a madman works.” She was hoping that would be the end of it and she could quickly depart the room. Alas, another question immediately followed.

“But why you specifically? And why Potter?” This question was from an older Slytherin boy, whose name she hadn’t bothered to learn.

_I should have worked on my story before I came here. What the hell do I tell them now? s_he thought mulishly.

It was Tracey who came to the rescue, noting Lauren’s reluctance and, thankfully, understanding why.

“He’s been quite interested in her ever since she fell through the ceiling of the Great Hall. But his intrigue really peaked when he saw what Lauren did to those three boys, and he’s been trying to get her alone since then. I think, in his own twisted mind, he thought he could harness some of her...powers. Same with Potter, especially since he survived being attacked by...You-Know-Who.”

_Smooth, _Lauren thought, looking at Tracey with renewed respect. The way she could come up with a plausible story in the spur of the moment, even if it was partially drawn from the truth, was quite impressive. _Give her a few more years and she’ll be a M__istress__ of deceit. She’ll make it good in the Ministry of Magic if she wants to go into politics. She has the right skill set for it._

“That’s terrible,” a few of the students exclaimed, and Lauren was relieved that the rest of the room seemed to accept this explanation, though Draco was now regarding Lauren with a shrewd gleam in his eyes.

“Why were you with Potter in the first place, Ward?”  
“I wasn’t,” Lauren stated. “He must have seen Quirrell carting me off and decided to play hero.”

“Did he save you?” Daphne asked, repulsion quite clearly writ on her face at the idea.

“No idea. After I broke Quirrell’s nose I made a run for it, but he blasted me into the wall. I lost consciousness about the time Potter showed up.”

A certain level of respectfulness now crept onto some of the faces peering back at her.  
“You broke Quirrell’s nose?” Gemma squawked. Shaking her head in a clear indication of consternation, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and muttered, “You really do enjoy getting into fights, Lauren.”

“True, but this time it was in self defence,” Lauren fired back, smirking at the rule-abiding Prefect. How she had ended up a Slytherin, Lauren had no idea.

Gemma sighed a sigh of exasperation, but Lauren glimpsed the amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Potter was unconscious as well,” Draco pointed out, his uncanny perceptiveness coming to light. “That means he was also hurt. So who ended up saving the both of you then?”

Lauren hesitated. She couldn’t very well tell them that Harry Potter had practically performed some major exorcism in that room and had cast Voldemort out with his bare touch, leaving Quirrell dead in the process.

“Dumbledore, I suppose,” she offered. It was a plausible story and one the rest of the Slytherins would believe. “I assume he figured out what Quirrell was up to and came to put a stop to it.”

“That’s quite an impressive story,” Gemma stated, and Lauren held her breath, fearing that none of them had fully believed her. Gemma surprised her by asking more kindly, “Are you okay?”

“Madam Pomfrey patched me up as good as new. Right now I just want to get cleaned up and get some tea in me,” Lauren stated pointedly.

Gemma nodded and turned to the rest of the group, ordering to head up to breakfast. Lauren felt a wave of gratitude towards Gemma for her understanding.

Once cleaned up Lauren donned a fresh set of clothes, which comprised of jeans, a plain black shirt and the only pair of sneakers in her possession.

_Time for a shopping trip, I think, once school has come to an end...which should be in three days._

Lauren and Tracey headed to the Great Hall and as soon as they entered the room, a deathly silence descended upon the room like a weighted blanket, all heads swivelling as one in her direction.

Lauren, with her usual characteristics, blatantly ignored them all and made her way towards her House table, where the rest of the Slytherins had since assembled.

Once seated, she glanced up at the staff table, her eyes instantly locking with the dark obsidian orbs of Snape’s, and the memory of what had transpired in that Hospital Wing the previous night resurfaced.

_What aren’t you telling me about this magical connection we share, Severus?_

Something unreadable flashed in those fathomless depths.He violently tore his gaze away from hers,schooling his features into an unreadable mask that gave none of his innermost thoughts away.

There was no doubt in Lauren’s mindthat Severus Snape now knew that she had overheard everything last night. And he was not happy about it.

~oOo~

An hour later found Lauren on the other side of the closed door that led to the Headmaster’s study, her mind oddly blank at the prospect of learning who her prospective ‘guardian’ was going to be.

Lauren breathed in deeply through her nose and steeled herself.

_Might as well get this over and done with._

She raised her hand and knocked firmly on the smooth wood of the door. Dumbledore’s rumbly voice sounded from the other side and Lauren opened the door and stepped into the room, pausing when she saw the dark silhouette of Severus Snape standing by the window, his back turned to her and his hands clasped behind his back.

Lauren’s eyes flickered towards the Headmaster, who was seated behind his grand desk and was regarding her with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

“Close the door please, Miss Ward, and have a seat,” he instructed amiably.

Lauren complied and settled in the nearest chair, her gaze darting between the silhouettes of Dumbledore and Severus. Snape practically radiated tension as he stood there like an unyielding statue. Then without warning he turned abruptly and strode towards her, seating himself in the chair parallel to hers. He levelled the Headmaster with a frosty stare, refusing to glance in her direction.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him, apparently unconcerned by the Potion Master’s prickly demeanor. “We need to discuss who I have considered to be the possible candidates that will have the...pleasure of being your Guardian, Miss Ward.” The word ‘pleasure’ had been emphasized in such a way that it was clear that Dumbledore mocking the word.

Lauren’s eyes narrowed and she slowly turned her head to regard Snape, who was still avoiding looking at her. Then she turned her attention back to Dumbledore.

“Who did you have in mind?” she asked, fearing that she already knew the answer.

Dumbledore quirked a bushy brow. “A few possibilities sprang to mind. Professor McGonagall -.”

“No,” Lauren stated instantly.

Dumbledore smiled back at her, almost as though he had expected this response. “No, I dismissed that idea almost as quickly as you did. I also considered Molly Weasley...”

“Absolutely not!” Lauren shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by the redheaded clan made up entirely of too many children. It was not an appealing thought.

His infuriating smile broadened. “Molly is a fine choice. She has a natural and wonderful motherly instinct.”

Lauren levelled him with a baleful glare. “Do I look like someone who appreciates being mothered?”

“No, I suppose not,” he chuckled. He paused and regarded her for an eternal moment. When he spoke, his tone was more serious. “My other choice is Professor Snape. You two have established a friendship of sorts.”

A soft snort sounded from the dark Potion Master seated to her left.

Lauren ignored his surly temperament and considered Dumbledore’s choice for a moment. “No,” she finally replied.

Dumbledore’s demeanor did not change in the slightest; in fact he seemed unperturbed by her refusal. “And may I inquire as to why you are against it.”

“There are two reasons, actually.” Lauren drew in a steadying breath and turned her head to look at Severus, surprised to see his undivided attention now trained on her, his dark gaze boring into her. “No offence, Professor Snape. I trust you with my life, but if the two of us live together, we’re going to end up killing each other for sure.”

“I highly doubt that, Miss Ward,” he drawled sardonically. The corners of his lips curled into a smile that held very little warmth. “You will find that I am very difficult to kill. If anything, it would be you suffering your demise at my hands.”

Severus arched a brow, daring her to contradict him. They stared at each other for the longest while, locked in a silent battle of wills

“Yes, Severus and I had the exact some discussion not too long ago, and I have to agree with the both of you,” Dumbledore stated, drawing both back to the present conversation. “With both your temperaments, a bloodbath would surely ensue after a week.”

“I’d give it three days,” Lauren chimed in, now turning her attention back to the Headmaster.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a smirk curl on Snape’s thin lips.

“Well, that settles it then,” Dumbledore mused, a tinge of amusement seeping into his voice, almost as though he didn’t believe either of them but was humouring them nonetheless. “What was you other reason?”

Lauren considered her next words carefully. “It wouldn’t be wise to be under Professor Snape’s protection, especially when Voldemort returns to power.” She ignored the way Snape flinched at the forbidden name. “With his misguided interest in me, he will demand that Professor Snape hand me over to him, which will probably blow his cover as spy for the Order if he so much as refuses. Worst case scenario, the Dark Lord will kill him. I can’t ask you to do that,” she said, shifting in her seat to now address Severus. “Not for me.”

Snape merely stared back at her with an unblinking gaze. “You have given this considerable thought, Miss Ward,” he finally spoke, his voice a silky baritone that sent shivers down her spine.

“I have.”

Snape’s penetrating gaze intensified, and Lauren felt like a deer caught in headlights in this very moment. She could not seem to drag her gaze away.

“Severus presented a very similar argument to me,” Dumbledore interjected. “And I concur.”

She dragged her gaze away from Severus’ and turned her attention back to the Headmaster, frowning as she realized he had already come to a decision. And by the look he was giving her, she didn’t have a say in the matter.

“Who do you have in mind then?” she asked with trepidation.

Dumbledore leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him, regarding her over his half-moon spectacles. “Me.”

_Oh dear God, no!_

Lauren groaned, dropping her head in her hands. _No, no, no!_

Her head snapped up and she shot Snape a pleading look. “Please, use the Killing Curse on me now! I’d rather die a quick and painless death than endure this torture.”

“You misunderstand, Miss Ward. I will be your guardian on paper only,” Dumbledore clarified, and when Lauren glanced his way she saw the corners of his lips twitching, his eyes sparkling fiercely in merriment.

Lauren frowned as she processed his words. “Are you saying that...there’s a loophole?”

“Indeed, there is.”

“What kind of loophole?” she asked with hope blooming in her chest, and she eagerly leaned forward in her chair, giving the Headmaster her full attention now.

“The Ministry only requested the name name of your guardian. They said nothing about being an ‘active’ guardian.”

Lauren blinked back in surprise at him. “So it’s all just technicalities then? You won’t be living with me over the Summer holidays?” Lauren couldn’t hide her giddiness at the prospect of her impending freedom.

“I am rather fond of my house. So no, Miss Ward, I will not be living with you. You are clearly an adult and I think you can take care of yourself well enough.”

Two thoughts entered her head simultaneously. One, she was rather surprised to learn that Dumbledore actually lived elsewhere rather than at Hogwarts. It was a startling revelation to learn he had a life outside of the school. Naively, she had always assumed he resided at Hogwarts year-round.

She decided to voice her other thought out loud. “Won’t the Ministry check up and make sure you are...looking after me?”

An enigmatic smile alighted his features. “I think you shall find that upon learning that I am to be your guardian, not many will question as to whether you are being looked after or not.”

It was then that Lauren realized just how much sway Dumbledore really had in the wizarding world. He was a renowned wizard and many looked up to him and trusted him. The fact that he had put his name down to be her guardian not only ensured that she would essentially be under his protection, but she would be left alone by the Ministry.

Dumbledore had just given her a considerable amount of freedom, and she couldn’t complain with that. Plus, she didn’t have to live with the old coot! That was a bonus in itself.

“Sounds good,” she conceded, and added more sincerely, “Thank you.”

Dumbledore inclined his head, accepting her gratitude.

Lauren glanced briefly at Severus. “But if you’re my ‘guardian’, why is Professor Snape here then?”

“Ah, I’m glad you mentioned that. Professor Snape has agreed to check in on you from time to time, and should you need anything you may contact him and he will assist you. I am sure you would appreciate his presence more than mine. This will also give you two ample opportunity to resume your lessons, which I think will be beneficial.”

_How does Dumbledore know about that? Did Snape tell him? Or maybe there’s not much that goes on in his school that he doesn’t know about._

She glanced side longs at Severus, who was regarding the Headmaster with cool detachment, not reacting in the slightest to his proclamation.

“Now,” Dumbledore continued, “I plan escort you home the day after all the students depart from the school. Would an hour after breakfast work for you.”

Lauren nodded mutely.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together and then rose from his seat, his chartreuse robes fluttering with the movement. “Now I have some final matters to discuss with Professor Snape.”

Lauren took this as her cue that their meeting was over and stood, glancing briefly at Severus.

His dark eyes met her own blue ones and he gave a small nod of his head in dismissal. Lauren knew it wouldn’t be wise to linger and exited the office without another word.

All-in-all, the outcome had been better than she had expected. She was not tied down to living with someone she couldn’t stand. She was as free to do as she pleased. And she would still get to see Snape over the holidays, with hopefully some duelling lessons added into the mix.

She briefly contemplated demanding the full truth about their magical connection from him, but decided against it. If Snape was reluctant to reveal it to her, that meant it was serious. Or, at least, it was serious to Snape. And right she didn’t want to add any more complications to their friendship. Best to leave it alone until he was ready to tell her. Or she could find out on her own.

~oOo~

Three days passed swiftly and soon the end-of-year feast was upon them.

The Great Hall was decked in the resplendent colors of green and silver to celebrate the Slytherins winning the House Cup. The Slytherins were were all raucous in their exuberance, wide and happy grins stretching on their youthful faces when they entered the room.

A dread settled in the pit of Lauren’s belly, for she knew that in a short span of time those smiles would be wiped clean and be replaced with complete and utter shock, not to mention dejection when their victory was swept right out from under their feet.

She settled into her seat and went through the motions of eating and pretending to be cheerful. But how could one put on a happy facade when they knew what was going to happen next?

A hush fell over the room when Harry Potter entered.

Lauren glanced up in time to see him shooting her an obviously suspicious look, and even when he was seated he kept glancing her way, his brows puckered in thoughtfulness. Lauren had to wonder how much he had overheard, if his conclusions were that of suspicion.

_Bloody Gryffindor jumping to the wrong conclusions again..._

Dumbledore rose to his feet to greet the crowded room and Lauren placed her fork down on her plate, her appetite vanishing instantly.

_Here it comes..._

As predicted, Dumbledore proceeded to award points to Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Neville, effectively ensuring the Gryffindors their victory.

The abject disappointment that washed over the Slytherins was palpable, and Lauren felt physically ill.

_How can Dumbledore do this to children? How can he possibly think this is fair? Do the feelings of his Slytherin students not matter at all, so long as his favourites are made to feel important and special?_

It was with downtrodden hearts that the Slytherins filed back to their dorms after dinner, morosely quiet and each lost in their own bitter thoughts.

“That was so unfair,” Tracey seethed beside Lauren as they entered the Common Room.

“It usually isn’t fair when favouritism is involved,” Lauren muttered back.

“And now we know that Potter is Dumbledore’s favourite,” Draco spat as he pushed past them and settled heavily into one of the leather couches. Lauren briefly wondered where Crabbe and Goyle had disappeared to, but found she really didn’t care.

Lauren settled beside him, resting her elbow on the armrest and cradling her cheek in the palm of her hand. “He’ll always be Dumbledore’s favourite. That’s never going to change, Draco.”

“Just wait til my father hears about this,” he ranted.

Tracey settled beside Lauren and spoke in a soft and calmer tone as she addressed Blondie. “I don’t think your father will be able to do anything. And even if he could, it’s too late now.”

Draco scowled darkly at the truth of her words.

Lauren sighed deeply. “Personally, I thought I deserved at least fifty points for breaking Quirrell’s nose...”

A stunned silence followed her words. Then a snigger sounded from Draco.

“I would have loved to have been there to see it!” he exclaimed with wicked delight. Then his features sobered. “You _should _have been awarded points for that, Ward.”

“But then that would mean Slytherin winning the House Cup,” Lauren pointed out. “Dumbledore didn’t want that.”

A sour look passed over his features. “It so unfair!”

“Yeah, it is,” Lauren admitted.

The students that had filed into the room were slowly filtering to their rooms to wallow, and they watched with heavy hearts as the Common Room emptied out, soon leaving the three of them alone.

“So what are your plans for the Summer?” Draco asked, not looking the slightest bit interested, but needing something to fill the heavy silence.

“We’re going to Paris for a few weeks to visit some family,” Tracey supplied.

Draco nodded and then eyed Lauren, waiting for her answer.

“I’m going to move into the manor I inherited,” Lauren supplied, thinking it was safe enough to reveal this to him.

“You inherited a manor?” Draco asked. When Lauren nodded, he leaned back into the sofa and whistled softly. “Cool.”

Lauren couldn’t help but grin at him, for in this moment he was very much a typical twelve-year-old, and not the ferrety git he usually was.

“Ooh. When I return from Paris can I come and visit?” Tracey asked.

Lauren’s eyes grew wide with fear as a thought occurred to her. “You’re not going to force me to play dolls, are you?”

Draco howled with laughter.

Tracey shot Lauren an acidic glare. “No, you idiot.”

Lauren sagged in relief. “In that case, of course you can come and visit.”

Tracey rolled her eyes; a habit Lauren noticed she had picked up from her. “Well, I think it’s time to finish packing up,” Tracey stated, rising to her feet and stretching her arms into the air. She relaxed with a sigh. “Tomorrow we go back home. Are you going to be on the train with us?”

Lauren shook her head. “No. Dumbledore is going to escort me to my new home the day after you all leave.”

Draco stood and offered his hand to Lauren to help her to her feet. She was a bit stunned by this chivalrous gesture, but placed her hand in his own. “Any chance you can punch him in the nose for taking the House Cup from us?” he asked slyly, releasing her hand.

Lauren chuckled at the thought. “I should, but that might straighten out his crooked nose. We can’t have that,” she joked.

“Pity,” he muttered, shoving his hands deep into his pant pockets. “Well, see you around, Ward. Davis.” He gave a nod to each of them and then strolled in the direction of his dorm room.

Lauren’s eyes followed his departure, pondering the fact that Draco was not as bad as she had initially thought.

_Maybe there is more than one person I can save in all of this..._


	21. Chapter 21

The sound of grunting and a few choice swear words echoed through to the Slytherin Common Room. Soon Lauren appeared, dragging her jammed packed trunk behind her, her face red and blotchy from the effort.

The trunk banged sharply against the heel of her foot and she let it drop to the floor with a resounding clatter, followed by an explicitly colourful choice curse word that would have made a pirate blush.

“There’s got to be an easier way to do this,” Lauren muttered, glaring darkly down at the offending trunk and contemplating just incinerating it right there and then.

“There is,” a silky drawl sounded from somewhere within the room.

Lauren whirled around to find Severus Snape leaning against the wall with his arms folded in front of him and a small amused smile curling on his lips as he watched her.The murky, green tinged water of the Black Lake beyond the windowadded the perfect backdrop to the dark Potion Master.

“If you had retained any information during the course of your school year, you would have known that_Winga__r__dium Leviosa_ would be a useful spell to use right about now.” There was no mistaking the bite of sarcasm that had entered his voice.

“I knew that,” Lauren muttered, slipping her wand out from the waistband of her jeans.

Snape smirked, not bothering to hide the fact that he didn’t believe her. He pushed away from the wall with elegant grace and strode towards her with long strides, his robe flapping sharply at his heels.

“Or, alternatively, you coulduse the _Locomotor _charm,” he continued in his lecture voice as he came to stand beside her. He arched a brow ever so slightly, somehow managing to convey just enough condescension into this slight facial expression as humanly possible.

Lauren blew a wild strand of hair from her sweaty face and placed her hands on her hips, in no mood for his attitude. “And I suppose you’re going to graciously show me how to cast that spell?”

“Graciously?” Snape scoffed. “No. I intend to show you once and I expect you to pay full attention, for I can guarantee you that I won’t be demonstrating it again.”

“That _is_ gracious for you,” Lauren bit back with equal sarcasm, causing Snape to narrow his dark eyes at her cheek.

With a sharp, yet fluid movement, he pulled his wand free from the sleeve of his robe and Lauren unconsciously stepped back. Snape’s eyes briefly flickered towards her, but he chose to ignore her reaction and, instead, pointed his wand at the trunk.

“If I had intentionsof hexing you, I would have done so already,” he stated, an odd edge to his voice. “Now concentrate and I expect you to execute this perfectly afterwards.”

“I thought school was supposed to be over for the year,” she muttered.

“Now, Miss Ward!”

His sharp command left no room for argument and Lauren scrambled to focus her attention on him.

Snape, satisfied that she was indeed paying attention, turned back to the trunk and flicked his wand, uttering the incantation, “Locomotor trunk.”

The trunk rose a few feet off the ground and levitated in the air. Snape lazily swished his wand from side to side, causing the trunk to follow the same pattern, and Lauren watched in awe at the fact thathe made it look so easy.

Finally Snape settled the trunk gently back upon the stone floor and angled his body so that he was now facing her, his facial expression now that of ostentation.

“Your turn.”

Lauren glanced down uncertainly at her wand and then back up at Snape. He had a knack for making everything seem effortless, and she knew that she was going to need some serious motivation to pull this off.

“Let’s make a wager,” she suggested.

There was a prolonged pause. “What did you have in mind?”

Lauren cast a sly side-long look at him. “If I cast this spell correctly, you buy me a bottle of Firewhisky. Lauren hastily held up a finger in warning. “And you let me get shit-faced drunk.”

Snape studied her for a few moments, silent in his thoughts and cunning burning in his obsidian eyes. Then he straightened up and, after slipping his wand back up his sleeve, he clasped his hands behind his back and murmured with clear enunciation, “Very well.”

Lauren should have been instantly on guard at the sly smirk that now foreshadowed his features but, as such, she was just elated that he was playing along, and she was ready to fist pump the air in victory.

Severus’ next words, though, had her halting in her tracks and gulping down the lump that had formed in her throat as he continued in a silky voice that sounded distinctly like honeyed poison. “Now for the terms of my wager.”

“What did you have in mind?” Lauren was certain that most of the blood had drained from her face as she stared back at him, waiting with pooling dread.

“You will have three attempts. Should you fail...” Snape made a show of pausing and thinking about his terms.

“Yes?” Lauren asked.

His eyes glinted with a dangerous spark. “Should you fail, you will be forbidden to create, replicate, make or consume any alcoholic beverages in any form.”

Lauren gaped at him in outrage. “That’s...that’s outrageous!” she spluttered.

“Those are your terms. Take it or leave it.”

Lauren chewed her thumb nail as she tried to find any loopholes or wriggle room in his wager. As such, there was none that she could find and now she was pondering whether to accept this ludicrousbet or not.

“I am waiting, Miss Ward.”

Lauren sighed. “I’ll only accept if this clause is for the remainder of this Summer holiday only.”

Snape’s smirk broadened. “Now you’re thinking like a Slytherin.” He sounded almost proud at her line of thinking.

Lauren shook her head. “Maybe, but knowing you, you would have ensured that it’d be for the remainder of my school years.”

“It had crossed my mind, yes,” he conceded silkily. “Now do you accept or not, Miss Ward? I have better things to do with my time than waste it bickering with you.”

“Yet you’re still here. One would almost think that you enjoy bickering with me.”

Snape huffed out a sigh and turned to leave.

“Fine, I accept!” Lauren called out, causing Snape to halt. When heturned around, an infuriatingly smug smirk was gracing his features.

“Then, by all means, astound me,” he drawled, extending his arm in the direction of the trunk.

Lauren shot him a baleful glare and then turned to face her trunk, raising her arm and aiming her wand at it. Sheused Occlumency to clear her mind of all emotions and distractions, and then concentrated on the spell she was going to attempt to use.

Careful not to exert too much force into the wand movement, or channel her magic too forcibly, Lauren flicked her wrist and uttered the incantation clearly.

The trunk rattled weakly on the floor and then shuddered to a standstill.

“Strike one.”

Lauren was sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at Snape, or smack that smug smirk clean off his face. Instead, she drew in a deep, calming breath and concentrated again.

This time the trunk rose in the air with precarious wobbly movements. Lauren gritted her teeth and concentrated on holding the spell, but it was no use and the trunk fell to the floor with a crash.

“Strike two,” Snape taunted.

Without turning to look at him, Lauren held up her other hand and flipped him the middle finger.

Lauren closed her eyes and cleared her mind. Her Occlumency was coming to her with more ease and naturalness than before, and she knew that with more practise it would become second nature to her.

Opening her eyes, Lauren raised her wand once more, determined to get the spell right this time. The trunk rose into the air more steadily and stayed in position. Lauren flicked her wand from side to side, a huge grin stretching on her lips when the trunk did as she commanded.

Lauren, in her elation, whirled around to face Severus. “You owe me a bottle of Firewhisky!”

Unfortunately, in that moment, she had forgotten that the spell was still enchanting her trunk and it zoomed toward Snape with alarming speed. He leaptback out of the way, barely avoiding getting struck by it.

“Oops,” Lauren said sheepishly, lowering the trunk once more to the floor and cancelling out the spell. “Sorry about that.”

It was Snape’s turn to scowl darkly at her. “I’m starting to think you had every intention of trying to knock me unconscious, Miss Ward.”

“Nope, that was purely coincidental.” Under her breath she added, “Though I wouldn’t have complained if I had.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits and Lauren knew he had overheard her comment.

“But I doubt I would have been able to hurt you, considering that you’re a highly skilled duellist.”

Snape merely glared back at her in deathly silence.

Lauren decided to broach the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask...will you teach me how to fight?”

“You already know how to fight.”

“Yes, but not with magic. And I know that, being the exceptional duellist that you are, you can teach me life saving skills that will save my ass, especially now that I’m on the Dark Lord’s To-Do-List.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanour as he regarded her, the frosty hauteur giving away to shrewd cunning and consideration. Lauren held her breath, praying that he would agree.

“It would be prudent for you to learn,” he stated slowly. “I will pay you a visit in three days time. We shall discuss it then, Miss Ward.”

Lauren could have sagged in relief and she gave Severus a grateful smile which, oddly enough, seemed to make the Potion Master visibly uncomfortable.

“Now,” he continued briskly, veering the topic in another direction, “the Headmaster is waiting for you. You had best be on your way.”

Lauren nodded, knowing he was right, and she concentrated on casting the spell once more on her trunk. It rose elegantly into the air, as thought being pulled by invisible strings, and patiently waited for her next command.

She turned around to face Snape. “I’ll see you in three days then.” She couldn’t disguise the hope in her voice even if she tried.

Snape inclined his head in agreement.

Lauren’s smile grew wider and she turned around and strolled towards the doors. She paused and glanced over her should.

“Professor Snape?”

He met her gaze and silently waited for her to continue.

“Don’t forget the Firewhisky!” she taunted in a sing-song voice before ducking hastily through the doors.

The doors slamming shut behind her foretold that Snape was not happy about losing the wager.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren met up with Dumbledore outside the main entrance of the castle, the warm rays of the sun basking along her skin and warming her to her very core.

Dumbledore stood swathed in an eye-blinding maroon robe infused with equally blinding magenta, a matching pointed hat perched upon his snow-white head.

He turned around at the sound of her arrival and arched a brow when he noted her levitating her trunk behind her.

“Ah, I see Severus has taught you a few useful spells.”

Lauren shrugged. “I caught him in one of his more...generous moods.” She intentionally left out the fact that she had scored a bottle of Firewhisky out of the deal.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled and then he withdrew his wand from the depths of his robe pocket and summoned her trunk, making it zoom to a skidding halt by his feet. Lauren watched in fascination as he shrunk it down to the size of a matchbox and, stooping, he scooped it up and pocketed it, shooting Lauren a wink as he straightened up.

“Nifty.”

“That spell does have its uses,” he remarked.Then, extending his arm for her to take, he continued, “Shall we?”

Lauren blinked stupidly at his offered arm. “I thought we couldn’t Apparate or Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts?”

An amused smile stretched on his lips. “There are certain advantages to being Headmaster, Miss Ward.”

Laurenpaused, realizing that she had forgotten about this little tidbit. But his words had also brought to the forefront another subject that she was not very happy about.

Lauren lifted her gaze to meet his own. “Like awarding points at the last minute to ensure the Gryffindors won the House Cup instead of the Slytherins?”

Dumbledore silently stared back at her, his arm still extended for her to take.

“That was really cruel, you know that. Did you even stop to think that your actions would hurt the feelings of a lot of your Slytherins? You may not have realized it, but you basically crushed them in one fell swoop. They’re only children, Dumbledore. How could you do that to children? To your students? Are you letting you favouritism blind you again into treating others unfairly?” Lauren’s chest heaved as she ranted, the built-up anger finally finding a release.

Dumbledore patiently let her expel her anger, not once trying to contradict or interrupt her to defend himself and his actions.

“Well?” she growled after a few moments had stretched out between them.

Dumbledore gave a regretful sigh as he gazed off into the distance, but he remained silent, which only infuriated Lauren even more.

“I don’t care what your reasonings were. There were other ways to make Potter feel special. What you did was show the whole damn school that, in the end, its only your favorites that matter.”

Instead of anger, Dumbledore merely stood there, unfazed as she ranted at him.

Lauren paused for breath, frowning. “What?”

Dumbledore shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Your steadfast loyalty and sense of justice are that of a true-at-heart Gryffindor.” Lauren scowled and was about to retort – rather scathingly - when Dumbledore’s next words had her pausing in thought. “But I find that I am rather relieved that you have been placed in Slytherin. There are a few that can benefit from these traits that you possess.”

Lauren stared mutely at him, her mind trying to make sense of what he was actually saying. It did not pass her notice that he hadn’t offered up an explanation and had instead deflected with effortless ease.

Then, without warning, Dumbledore curled his hand around her upper arm and with a swift turn, they Disapparated.

The world as she knew it spun violently and Lauren was subjected once more to the uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a tube that she was far too largeto fit into. Just as she felt as though her ears were about to pop, it suddenly (and blessedly)came to an end.

Lauren gasped in a ragged breath but, to her credit, she did not throw up this time. She shot Dumbledore a withering glare as she bent at the waist, clutching her knees for support. “A little warning would have been nice.”

He hummed merrily to himself. “I felt distraction was rather prudent.”

Lauren’s scowl deepened and she straightened up, intent on resuming her tongue lashing from earlier on.But she stopped dead, her mind blanking out as she became completely distracted by the sight before her.

They were standing on the other side of a shut wrought iron gate, an elegant swooping ‘W’ embossed upon the cold metal. Lauren’s absently stepped forward, her gaze being drawn of its own accord to the sight beyond.

Rolling green lawn stretched out as far as the eye could see, and a gravel drivewaywound up to the manor up in the distance.Large and twisting Jacaranda trees lined each side of the driveway, the blooming flowers forming a breathtaking canopy of indigo .

In the distance she could just make out the manor. Lauren had been expecting a castle or mansion of some sort;something that would be cold and foreboding to live in. Lauren was pleasantly surprised by the sight that greeted her instead.

The ‘manor’ itself resembled a large and grandeur English cottage. Ivy adorned most of the brick-faced walls of the manor, creeping and winding around the pillars and the stone terraces of the balconies. Even from this distance the manor had a warm and welcoming feel to it. It felt like home.

Lauren stared stunned at the sight, for she had never glimpsed anything as breathtaking and beautiful as this house. This was pure luxury for her. It boggled her mind that this was now all hers.

“We first need to activate the wards and transfer ownership over to you, Miss Ward, before we can proceed inside.”

Lauren dragged her gaze away from the sight before her and tried to focus on the Headmaster.

“It is going to require some blood on your part, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore continued. “I hope the sight of blood doesn’t make you squeamish?”

Lauren shook her head and held out her hand towards him, palm facing up. “Nope,” she stated, popping the ‘p’.

“Excellent,” he mused, taking her hand in his own. With a quick flick of his wrist, he slashed a shallow cut across her palm with his wand.

Lauren watched in fascination as the bright red liquid welled up and she instinctively cupped her hand to avoid any spillage.

“Press your hand against the crest on the gate,” Dumbledore instructed, stepping back.

Lauren did as she was told, but her mind was screaming at her to find a disinfectant as soon as possible. This was highly unsanitary.

Almost immediately there was an urgent tug within her very core as her magic was called forth. There was a shuddering pause as the wards placed upon the property ‘tasted and tested’ her blood. Then a tingling warmth rushed up her arm and flowed through the blood in her veins like a torrential river. Lauren gasped at the unnerving sensation, unable to move as the wards accepted and acknowledged her magic and lineage.

There was another poignant pause and then the tingling warmth receded swiftly, halting at her hand pressed against the embossed ‘W’.A golden shimmer flared beneath her palm as her magic became one with the wards.

The golden light died down, releasing its iron grip on Lauren, and she dropped her hand to her side.

“What just happened?” she asked, still staring with wide eyes at the gate.

“The wards placed upon the manor recognized your blood as belonging to the Ward bloodline, and have now accepted you as the new owner of this lovely property,” Dumbledore explained magnanimously “The gates should now allow you entrance.”

Lauren eyed the firmly shut gates and wondered where the key was to unlock it.

“Simply walk through them, Miss Ward,” Dumbledore explained patiently.

Lauren blinked back at him, wondering if he was yanking her chain. Decided to trust him on this, she took a tentative step forward and it was like walking through smoke; one minute the gates were there and the next the were nothing but thin air for her to pass through.

Lauren glanced back to see Dumbledore stepping through, humming to himself with a small enigmatic smile plastered on his face.

“I take it being my guardian gives you certain privileges as well,” she stated, realizing that he could come and go here as he pleased and that there was no way she was going to be able to bar him from dropping in unexpectedly.

“Yes, it does. But I will endeavour to respect your privacy and will forewarn you in the unlikely event that I will need to visit you.”

Lauren remained silent, unsure whether to believe him or not. Though she was leaning towards believing him, as Dumbledore had opted to delegate most guardian privileges to Severus Snape.

“Shall we have a look at the house?” Dumbledore continued brightly, extending his hand in the direction of the manor.

They walked through the tunnel of Jacaranda trees, the fallen petals carpeting their progression and scenting the air with a delicate sweet perfume.

They finally made it to the front door of the house and Lauren paused to admire the bright tulips planted along the edges of the house. These were her favourite flowers and Lauren had to wonder if this was purely coincidence.

Deciding not to dwell on it too much, Lauren turned towards the door and lifted her hand to turn the handle. But before she could so much asnudge the door, it swung open silently on its hinges. Lauren faltered, frowning in confusion.

“Look down, Miss Ward.”

Lauren did so and almost squeaked in surprise as two large blue orbs stared back up her, bat-like ears flapping rather enthusiastically as the house-elf beamed back at her with puppy-like devotion.

“Mistress! Yous has finally arrived,” the house-elf exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.

Lauren was at a loss for words. The last thing she had expected was to inherit a house-elf. But her shock morphed in thoughtfulness as she stared at the elf, realizing it looked very familiar. Then the memory hit her.

“Blinky?”

“Mistress remembers Blinky!” Blinky cried happily, tears of joy pooling in her overly large eyes. Lauren was momentarily scared that the creature was going to burst into tears. She did not do well around crying, and usually avoided weeping people altogether.

But Blinky behaved herself and stepped aside to usher them in.

Entering the foyer, Lauren paused in surprise. Admittedly, she had been expecting something resembling 12 Grimmauld Place: dark, dreary and overall just having a miserable atmosphere.

Again, Lauren was pleasantly surprised.

The foyer wasn’t overtly or richly furnished, andthe pictures hanging on the walls were unique and captivating. It would seem that Bethany had chosen paintings that had appealed to her rather than going by the popularity of the artist. This was evident in the fact that there was an oil painting of the Eiffel Tower at twilight, anotherof a black panther stalking towards the viewer, and an abstract painting of a wizened old man seated in a rocking chair, picking his overly large nose. None of the pictures blended in with the decorum, and Lauren sensed that the rest of the house was going to be just as unique.

But the thing that drew Lauren’s attention the most was the brightly lit interior. Her gaze wandered upwards to the chandelier overhead and her eyes widened when she realized what she was actually seeing.

_Electricity! This house has electricity!_

Dumbledore followed her line of sight and chuckled. “Bethany Ward was considered...a unique witch, andshe embraced certain aspects of both the wizarding and Muggle world.”

“This is brilliant,” Lauren murmured before turning her attention to Dumbledore. “Did you know her?”

“Alas, no. She was a fiercely private witch. I don’t think there were many who really knew her all that well.”

Lauren nodded, suddenly eager to get exploring.

“I shall leave you to to it then, Miss Ward. Should you need me, or Severus, we are but a Floo call away. I take it you know how to use the Floo Network?”

“Yeah,” Lauren said absently, her eyes drawn once more to the chandelier.Then a thought occurred to her. “Wait! Am I allowed to use magic? I know I’m stuck in a child’s body, but considering that I still retain my adult mind, I just wanted to know if the same rules apply to me?”

Dumbledore, to his credit, didn’t brush off her question and was actually giving it considerable thought. “In usual circumstances, the answer would be no. But when it comes to you...well, I am not entirely certain of the answer.” His brows furrowed as he came to a conclusion. “Wait until I leave and then cast a simple spell. If you do not receive a warning letter from the Ministry, then I would say that it is safe to continue using magic. But I should warn you to exercise caution and do not cast spells in front of Muggles.”

Lauren nodded in understanding.

“Excellent. Now Blinky will gladly help you with anything else that you need. Take note that she is only here for the duration of any holidays and will return to Hogwarts afterwards.”

Lauren glanced around, wondering where the elusive house-elf had disappeared to.

“And one last thing. I have added certain security measures to ensure your safety. None may enter without your consent. The house recognizes you as the new owner and, as such, you have free rein to choose who may come and go. I gave it some thought but in the end I decided against using a Fidelius Charm for now.”

Lauren’s mind drifted to the moment when Voldemort would return to power and her safety would be severely compromised then. For now she was safe as she could be, but in three years that was going to be an entirely different story altogether. “Would it be possible to add the Fidelius Charm at a later date?”

Dumbledore peered at her over the top of his spectacles. “I would highly suggest it.”

Lauren nodded. “Good.”

Dumbledore straightened up and gave her a small smileand reached into his robe pocket, retrieving her miniaturized truck. Placing it on the floor, he stepped back and enlarged it with a flick of his wand and the use of a non-verbal incantation.

“Good day, Miss Ward,” he stated, inclining his head in her direction. Then he turned around and exited through the door, a whistled merry tune following in his wake.

“Would Mistress like a cup of tea?”

Lauren jumped, squawking in surprise. The little elf had crept up on her so quietly that Lauren was starting to suspect she was part ninja.

“Um...what?”

“Would Mistress like a cup of tea?” Blinky repeated, those enormous eyes trained on Lauren.

“Um, sure. Yes, please,” she replied, watching in bemusement as the house-elf scurried off to prepare her some tea.

Lauren pulled her wand free of the waistband of her jeans and cast about in her mind for a simple spell. She decided to settle for the one that Snape had taught her earlier on. Her trunk levitated in the air and she held it for a few moments before settling it back on the stone floor.

Then she waited.

Nothing happened. No warning letter from the Ministry magically appeared. Nothing.

_Curious...It would seem that by all intents and purposes, the _ _laws of _ _magic recognize me as an adult. _ _Very interesting._

She almost yelped again when Blinky appeared suddenly by her side, cup of tea and saucer balanced in her hands as she held it up eagerly for Lauren to take.

“Thank you, Blinky,” Lauren murmured, taking a grateful sip of the hot infusing liquid. She then eyed the elf curiously. “How long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday,” the elf enthused, her ears flapping eagerly.

“Yesterday?! It only took you a day to clean this place and tend the garden?”

Blinky shook her head from side to side. “No, no. Blinky not have to clean much. House and property were placed in stasis.”

“Stasis?”

“Frozen in a moment.”

“Ah,” Lauren mused in understanding. “So have you explored the place much?”

“No, no. I’s is not exploring, Mistress. I’s been cleaning and getting Mistress’s house ready,” Blinky said, wringing her hands in front of her. Her eyes were big and wide, almost as though she were afraid that she were in trouble.

“It’s okay, Blinky,” Lauren assured, stooping so that she was now eye level with the diminutive elf. “I just wanted to know if there was anything interesting or worthwhile you may have discovered...”

The elf’s ears instantly perked up. “Oh yes, Blinky found many interesting things. There’s the huge Library with lots of books about poisons, a laboratory in the basement...”

“A lab? In the basement?” Lauren instantly pictured something from Frankenstein, and felt excitement course through her veins. This was perfect. “Can you show me please?”

Blinky’s head bobbed up and down like one of those Bobble Head toys, and she grabbed Lauren’s hand, practically dragging her in her haste.

Five hours later found Lauren in one of the eleven rooms she had decided to make her own. The other rooms had all been similar in design (and thankfully all had working plumbing), but this room had a special and more homely feel to it.

There were odd whirring devices nestled upon the mantle of the fireplace and an old fashioned writing desk sat in the corner, the wooden surface somewhat worn from constant use. A beautiful white bedspread with bright red flowers embroidered on it adorned the huge four poster bed. The floor was completely made up of polished hardwood, though a large plush cream rug added to the comfort level of the room.

She flopped down on the luxuriously soft bed and stretched out, a giddy grin blooming on her face. She couldn’t wait for Snape to show up so that she could show him the lab where they could brew potions together. She had a feeling he was going to be rather impressed. Hell, she was impressed herself.

She turned her head and eyed the stack of books she had gathered from the library and had placed on the desk, each pertaining to a variety of poisonous snakes of the magical kind.

When Blinky had stated that the library was huge, she hadn’t been kidding. Book shelves lined each and every wall, stretching from floor to ceiling and each shelf crammed with books, a large section dealing with poisons and antidotes.It was like something out of the Beauty and the Beast movie. Lauren promised herself to properly peruse that room more thoroughly some other time; today had been dedicated to exploring other parts of the house.

So far Lauren had discovered there were twelve bedrooms, a kitchen complete with walk-in pantry, a powder room, a study, a lab in the basement, a library, a dining room that could easily seat twenty people, and a living room. She hadn’t yet explored any of the storage closets.

Though, truth be told, it would take weeks – months even – to explore everything fully. And hopefully along the way Lauren would get a clearer picture of who Bethany Anne Ward had been.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren was seated at the oval kitchen table, the bright sunlight streaming in through the open window as she pored over a book on rare and magically poisonous snakes, hoping for a clue as to what type of snake Nagini was. Part of her suspected that Nagini wasn’t an ordinary snake at all, even by magical standards, but she had to try and find something if she wanted to save Snape in the end.

Scribbled notes were scattered all over the surface of the table, andin the background Blinky was washing dishes, humming merrily to herself.

Lauren smiled to herself as she took a sip of the perfectly made tea. So far witch and elf were co-existing quite well together, and Lauren had no complaints.

Lauren almost spilled her tea when a deep, rich, and very sarcastic sounding voice interrupted her reverie.

“Cease your daydreaming and allow your wards and let me in, Miss Ward.”

Lauren’s head whipped around, searching for the dark form of Severus Snape.

“Fireplace, Miss Ward,” he drawled impatiently.

Lauren’s gaze landed on the fireplace, her brows drawing into a perplexed frown when she spied the green flames flickering within, and the disturbing image of Snape’s features distorted within those flames.

Lauren carefully placed her mug down and scooted out of her chair, coming to kneel on the hard and unforgiving floor of the kitchen.

“Um, how do I let you in?”

His brows furrowed in a deep scowl. “Did that fool teach you nothing?”

“I think Dumbledore assumed I already knew how to do it. So how do I let you in?”

Snape huffed, grumbling something incoherent under his breath. “I will attempt to Floo to your home. The wards will alert you and you can mentally accept or deny me entrance.”

“What would you do if I declined?” she teased, leaning back on her haunches.

Snape smirked at her. “I know for a fact that you will not deny me entrance.”

“Oh?” she challenged. “Is that a fact?”

He smirked. “In this instance, yes.” He paused and added with dramatic flair, “I have your Firewhisky.”

Lauren instantly perked up. “Come right in!” she stated brightly, scrambling to her feet.

Snape’s eye roll was hard to miss. His distorted green head disappeared from view and a few seconds later Lauren discerned a sharp and insistent mental nudge that was distinctly ‘flavoured’ as Severus Snape.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, mentally opening the wards and allowing him entrance.

A moment later the black form of Severus Snape stepped out through the fireplace. He withdrew his wand and vanished the soot from his clothes before sheathing his wand once more.

His gaze flickered up and landed on Lauren.With a dramatic eye roll at the expectant look she was shooting him, Snapewithdrew the promised bottle of Firewhisky from his pocket and handed it to her.

“Ooh, aren’t you a beauty,” Lauren cooed as she practically cradled the bottle against her chest.

Snape watched her with blatant disgust and stepped further into the kitchen, pausing at the table. His assessing gaze took inthe scribbled notes scattered about, as well as the book Lauren had been reading.

“Interesting choice of book,” he remarked.

“I found in the Library. You should see it – it’s huge, and there are so many interesting books,” Lauren babbled, her eyes growing wider and brighter with her infectious enthusiasm. “I was going to place the book you gave me in there, but I’m half afraid it would get lost amongst it all, never to be seen again.”

“You still have the book I gave you?” Snape sounded genuinely surprised at this revelation.

“Of course. It’s found a permanent place in the bookshelf in my bedroom. I hope that’s alright?”

Snape looked momentarily at a loss for words. Then he turned his attention back to the book. “Why the sudden interest in...” He paused, reading the title, “Magically rare and poisonous snakes?”

Lauren placed the bottle of Firewhisky upon the table and tried to shuffle her notes in an orderly pile. “Let’s just say that it’s important.”

Silence was her only reply and she glanced up to see Snape giving her a shrewd look. But he did not press her for further information, as he had already concludedthat this pertained to future events. He gave a slight nod of his head.

“I know we were meant to start training today, but I was hoping you’d be able to take me to Muggle London. I need to do some shopping.”

Snape frowned at her request. “Surely you know how to get there from Diagon Alley.”

“Yes. But how do I get back? I know I need to tap some bricks on the wall after I pass through the pub, but what then? Which fireplace do I use to Floo back to my house? Do I just walk into any store and ask to use their fireplace?”

Snape’s features were now morphing into that of someone whose patience was being sorely tested. “For one who professes to know a lot about our world, you certainly lack the knowledge of the most basic and mundane things.”

“Sad, but true,” Lauren admitted.

“What is so urgent that you need to go there? Surely you could send Blinky to get what you need, or find it in Diagon Alley.”

Lauren glanced over at Blinky and cringed. “I don’t think the Muggles will react very nicely to seeing her. And I’m not entirely sure I can get what I need in Diagon Alley.”

“And what is it you need?”

Lauren eyed him and decided to be bluntly honest. “Feminine...stuff. And I only know how to use the Muggle variety.”

She could see Snape visibly trying to work out in his brilliant mind what she was referring to. The flush that bloomed on his cheeks let her know that he had cottoned on.

“Shall I come back next week then?” he offered, sounding distinctly uncomfortable and unable to meet her eyes.

“Well, I suppose so, but I still need to get certain things very soon. These god awful cramps are a clear indication that my period is just around the corner, so I really do need to get pads. Not to mention some training bras...Going through puberty again is a bitch. And I’ll also need to purchase ingredients to brew a pain potion for these blasted cramps.”

Snape, his cheeks still flushed, turned on his heel and marched towards the fireplace.

Lauren panicked, fearing he was going to leave and refuse to return for the remainder of the Summer. “Professor Snape, please,” she begged.

Snape paused, his back turned towards her, but otherwise remained silent.

“I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t need this.”

The moment stretched out and Lauren was expecting him to Floo out of there any moment now.

Snape surprised her byreaching into the pocket of his robe and turning to face her, withdrew his hand and handed her a small vial.

Lauren took the proffered vial and held it up to the light, examining the liquid within.

“That should help with the cramps.” His voice was a soft murmur.

Lauren glanced up at him to find Snape assessing her with a cool and detached facade.

Unstoppering the vial, she downed the liquid in one go, the cramps vanishing almost instantly.

“I shall take you as far as the pub and I will escort you back when you are done with your...shopping,” Snape stated, reverting back to his waspish nature.

Lauren nodded, thankful that he was at least agreeing to take her at all.

“Thank you. Let me just grab my Gringotts key,” she said before rushing to retrieve said key.

Less than an hour later found Lauren and Snape in the Leaky Cauldron.

Snape had taught her (with great impatience) the spell to clean one’s self off after Floo’ing, Lauren had learned which bricks to tap with her wand to enter and exit Diagon Alley, and after her shopping, he was going to show her which fireplaces she could use to return home.

Her pockets now crammed with Muggle money and her wand safely hidden in the waistband of her jeans, Lauren was ready for her shopping expedition.

“Meet me here in two hours,” Snape stated as he glared down his nose at her. It was clear he had no intentions of going on another shopping trip with her. Once was clearly enough for him.

“You obviously don’t know about traffic in Muggle London. Three hours,” she countered.

His dark eyes narrowed, but he considered her words. “Fine. Three hours. Don’t be late.”

Lauren nodded and exited the pub, pausing for a moment to orientate herself. Then she was off to go do some much needed shopping.

To say she lost track of time was an understatement, but it was near impossible to do any amount of shopping in London on a Saturday in under three hours.

Lauren, her arms loaded with bags full of clothes, bras, underwear and miscellaneous shit that every female needs (or thinks they need), headed to the shoe department to pick out some much needed footwear.

It was here that she spent a good hour trying on various sneakers and sandals, even stopping to enviously eye the stilettos on display. Alas, there were none in her size.

As she was trying on a pair of red Converse, a dark shadow fell over her hunched form. Lauren glanced up to see Severus Snape glaring down at her with dark eyes that reflected his ire, as well as his annoyance.

“I clearly stated three hours,” he growled, causing some of the other shoppers to glance up.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “You clearly haven’t been shopping with many females if you think that three hours is sufficient enough time, or that we’ll actually stick to the allotted time given,” she shot back, lacing up the shoes. “What do you think?” she asked, standing up and pivoting her foot this way and that so that he could get a better look that them.

Snape glanced down, his infamous scowl etched on his face. Then he snapped his attention back to her, his eyes glinting. “You clearly defied my orders.”

“No, I simply lost track of time,” she muttered, glancing down at her shoes. “Yeah, I like these. I think I’ll get them and those sandals, and maybe those white sneakers...”

“Miss Ward, do you have any idea how long it took me to find you?” His tone clearly indicated that his patience level was now depleted.

“Were you worried about me?” Lauren asked, slipping out of the shoes and placing them back in the box before donning her old sneakers once more.

“No.”

Lauren hid her smirk and picked up the boxes of her selected shoes. “Okay. Look, I’m really sorry. I did lose track of time, but I’m done now and we can head back just as soon as I pay for these.”

Snape huffed. “Fine.”

“Will you help me carry my shopping bags, please?”

Snape glanced over to where she was pointedly looking to see a large pile of shopping bags heaped into a corner. Then he slowly turned his head to give her a pointed look. “I thought you said you only needed to get a few things.”

Lauren chuckled. “You really haven’t been shopping with a woman before, have you?”

Snape grumbled and marched over to the piles of bags and snatched them up while Lauren headed to the register to pay for her items.

As the cashier scanned the items, Snape sidled up beside Lauren, watching the woman’s movements witha curiously assessing gaze.

“I suppose you want me to carry those as well,” he remarked sarcastically to Lauren.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” sheremarked back, handing the cashier the payment for her purchases. As the lady handed Lauren back her change, she glanced up at Snape and remarked, “Your daughter is just so adorable. You’re a very lucky man.”

Both Professor and student stood there dumbfounded, and when Lauren came to her senses she had to fight down the giggles that now threatened to bubble up.

She had no idea what possessed her to do it, and maybe she was feeling suicidally mischievous, but Lauren plastered a sickly sweet smile on her face and exclaimed in her best girly voice, “Yes, my Daddy is just the best!”

Snape’s head whipped around her direction so fast that Lauren was surprised he hadn’t given himself whiplash.

Taking the bag from the cashier, Lauren exited the department store as fast as she could and leaned against the wall for support as hysterical and all-consuming laughter consumed her.Tears of laughter were streaming down her face by the time Snape caught up to her, his face a thunderous mask.

“That was NOT funny,” he snapped.

Lauren gasped for air and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You should have seen your face!” she wheezed, doubling over as she gave in to her giggles once more.

Snape growled in annoyance and Lauren held up her hand. “Okay. Okay. It won’t happen again. Sheesh. You really need to draw up a list of things I can and cannot do. Clearly calling you Daddy isn’t one of them.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed and he turned abruptly on his heel, marching down the crowded street. The crowd instantly parted like the red seain the face of the formidable Potions Master and his raging temper.

Knowing he would not wait for her, Lauren scooped up her bags and dashed after him, completely out of breath by the time they reached the pub.

Once inside the pub, Snape miniaturized her bags and pocketed them, completely ignoring her the whole time. Then he marched outside, Lauren catching up just in time to see the bricks in the wall parting. She followed him all the way down Diagon Alley until they reached a wide and long side street that was walled in on either side and formed into a tunnel of sorts. Numerous fireplaces had been erected along each wall, each with flickering green flames burning within.

“Here is the answer to your question,” Snape remarked cuttingly.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a container. Prying the lid off, he then held it out for her. Lauren glanced up at him uncertainly, noting the disdain plainly written on his features as he glared back at her, and she hastily ducked her head, taking a fistful of the Floo powder as she did so.

She flung the powder into the fireplace and stepped in, stating in a clear voice, “Ward manor.”

Lauren was deposited back into her kitchen, coughing out a lungful of soot as she stepped out. Blinky was instantly by her side, cleaning her off.

A flash of green flared behind her and Snape stepped out with much more elegance than she had managed.

He reached into his pocket, flung her bags onto the kitchen table and enlarged them.

Then he rounded on her, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Don’t ever do that again!”

Lauren gulped and managed a nod. Okay, she had been wrong. Snape could still instill a certain amount of fear within her.

Snape stared at her for several seconds and then abruptly straightened, marching towards the fireplace and leaving in a flash of green without a word of goodbye.

Lauren sagged, a heaviness settling deep within her heart, and she wondered if she would see him again any time soon.

Her gaze landed on the kitchen table where her bags of purchases lay strewn, and frowned when she glimpsed a handful of vials neatly lined up on the wooden surface. She edge closer and realized that Snape had left her some more pain potion.

A regretful sigh escaped her lips and then her eyes landed on the bottle of Firewhisky. Lauren closed the distance in an instant and snatched up the bottle, uncorking it with expert ease. She lifted it to her lips and gulped down a large mouthful.

And promptly spat it out.

Lauren spluttered and coughed, grimacing in disgust.

_That’s not Firewhisky...that’s apple juice! _

A note taped to the side of the bottle caught her attention.

_There was no mention in the wager about not sabotaging the Firewhisky. Enjoy...S._

_Why that s__neaky, s__ly, __slithering__ Slytherin! _Lauren grumbled to herself before emptying the contents down the kitchen sink with a resigned sigh. _And I was really looking forward to that drink. __Time to learn how to brew some moonshine..._


	22. Chapter 22

It had been a week since Snape had stormed out. A week since Lauren had last laid eyes on him. A drearily long, stretched-out week since she had last heard the deep baritone of hissilky voice that could inflect just the right amount of disdain, sarcasm or arrogance (usually all three if he was in one of his moods). And it felt as though it had been forever since she had last locked eyes with his dark, fathomless gaze that could peer so deeply into her soul, yet reveal none of his innermost thoughts.

Lauren sighed deeply as she cradled her cheek in her hand, her elbow resting on the wooden kitchen table and her other hand curled around a steaming mug of tea.

_Damn, I miss that crotchety __old grouch, _she thought mulishly.

Her gaze came to settle on the stack of books that she had been perusing all week; manyon various poisons, antidotes and theories pertaining to both subjects.

Lauren blew out a long drawn-out huff. She had spent endless hours poring over those books in an attempt to distract herself and keep her mind off the Potion Master, and maybe find even a half-assed solution to Severus’ fate, but as of yet she was having very little luck in both distraction and solution.

Lauren had then tried a different form of distraction and had explored the manor, but that had not helped either. Truth was, Severus Snape was not far from her waking thoughts.

_I need a drink._

With that thought in mind, Lauren cut her gaze over to Blinky, who was stacking away the last of the breakfast dishes neatly in the cupboard.

_Not that you will be able to help me with that..._

Lauren had tried to coerce the house-elf into getting her a bottle of anything alcoholic after Snape’s little prank (by this stage she wasn’t fussy and would have even settled for Tequila – a liquor which she absolutely abhorred). But the little elf had crossed her spindly arms firmly over her chest and had shaken her head in refusal.

“_Master Dumbledore has told Blinky that Blinky must not buy Mistress Lauren any __alcohol__.”_

Blinky had then shot Lauren a look of disapproval for even asking such a thing of her.

Lauren leaned back in her chair, her irritation growing._ It would seem that I have two of the smartest and most cunning wizards in the world working against me on this. I’m doomed to a life of dull, boring sobriety._

And her plans to make moonshine were falling flat, mainly because she had no idea how to even make the stuff. And it wasn’t as though she had Google at her disposal.

Suddenly a sharp, commanding mental nudge startled Lauren, jolting her out of her thoughtsand almost making her slosh her tea all over herself.

_Severus! _

She’d recognize that mental signature anywhere.

A huge grin stretched on Lauren’s lips, and the odd sensation that she had felt on a few occasions whilst in his presence settled like a warm, glowing ember within her chest. She mentally opened the wards to allow him in, her excitement almost at bubbling point.

No sooner had she granted him entrance than the fireplace flared green and out stepped Severus Snape, swathed in all his glorious black and his raven hair framing his pale features like a glossy curtain.

He cast the cleansing spell upon himself and then his gaze snapped up, focusing on her with such penetrating force that it almost stole the very air from Lauren’s lungs. Inwardly she puzzled as the odd sensation intensified as their eyes locked. She could not explain the foreign emotion, for she had never experienced anything like it before.

“Miss Ward,” Snape greeted in a crisp tone, cutting through her inner musings.

Lauren’s smile stretched into what she was sure was a goofy grin, and her suspicions were confirmed when a dark scowl furrowed his features.

“Cease ogling me like some idiotic dunderhead.”

“Sorry,” she said, sounding for all the world quite the opposite. “It’s just that I...missed you.”

Snape levelled her with a frosty look and Lauren was sure he was going to cut her down in a verbal tirade.

Snape did not disappoint.

“Just because your teenage hormones have finally made an appearance, it does not give you the right of passage to act like some silly little schoolgirl. I suggest you start acting your age, Miss Ward, for all our sakes.”

Lauren merely smiled back at him. “Nice to hear you missed me, too.”

Snape glared at her, though a flicker of something indiscernibleflashed through those dark eyes. The ever so slight softening of his features suddenly had Lauren realizing that he had, oddly enough, missed her as well.

_Well blow me down! _Lauren thought in shock. _But__ it’s not like he’s ever going to admit it..._

“So what took you so long to come and visit?” she decided to ask instead. “Well, besides being royally pissed at me.”

Snape stepped further into the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “I do have a life of my own, Miss Ward. You are perfectly capable of looking after yourself and do not require my constant supervision. If you require hand-holding, I suggest you look elsewhere.”

Lauren couldn’t help it. A wide grin stretched on her lips and she shook her head in amusement.

“I fail to see what is so funny,” Snape remarked.

“Oh nothing. I just realized that I missed that snarky attitude of yours as well.”

Snape rolled his eyes skywards, almost as though he were mentally counting to ten, or praying for divine intervention to grant him a sliver of patience.

Lauren scooted out of her chair and closed the distance between them. Snape instantly and visibly stiffened at her approach, and she could literally see him slamming his Occlumency shields into place.

Lauren stopped short of touching him and craned her neck to look up at him.

“I have a surprise.”

Snape was silent for a few beats as he stared down his nose at her, his eyes reflecting his wariness. “If it has something to do with your...feminine issues, I’m not interested,” he stated firmly.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “No, it doesn’t. But I don’t know why it bothers you so much. It’s a natural part of being a woman and really isn’t something to be embarrassed about...”

“Miss Ward?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up.”

Lauren smirked, by now completely used to his abrasive attitude. She drew in a deep breath and willed her magic into submission by drawing on her Occlumency. She really didn’t need her magic misbehaving, not right now. She hesitated for a moment and then reached out for his hand, her fingertips skimming against his knuckles in a silent request.

After a poignant pause, Snape’s hand twitched and then he curled his hand around hers. Lauren let out the breath she had been holding and glanced up at him, almost missing the puzzled expression that crossed his features - which he hastily schooled as he met her gaze.

Lauren decided it was best not to make the situation even more uncomfortable for him and tugged on his hand, soon leading him through the kitchen, past the dining room and then the living room. Snape was silent as she guided him down the hallway, stopping at a dark mahogany door.

Lauren glanced over her shoulder at him and shot him a mischievous grin before she turned the handle and swung open the door to reveal stairs leading down to the basement. She flicked on the light switch and then stepped aside.

“After you.”

Snape shot her a suspicious look. Then he turned his attention to the stairs and, coming to a decision, released her hand and glided down the stairs.

Lauren ignored how cold and empty her hand now felt as she followed behind him, her excitement soon overshadowing that odd sensation in her chest.

They reached the bottom and Lauren almost walked straight into Snape’s back as he came to a complete standstill as his gaze swept over the interior.

Lauren stepped around Snape to come and stand beside him, and glanced up to witness the raw, hunger-filled expressionthat now graced his features.

Lauren couldn’t much blame him. She had had the same reaction when she had first entered this room.

The basement was sectioned into two, a solid stone wall to their right hiding the other room from sight. And even though the basement had been split in half, the lab portion was still huge and spacious. Though, when Lauren had first encountered this room,_enormous, __colossal_ and _gigantic _were the exact words that had sprung to mind_._

Heavy workstations were placed at regular intervals on either side of the room, some of the roughwooden surfaces bearing black scorch from long agopotion mishaps.

Shelves lined the walls surrounding them, the bright light from the crystal chandelier above illuminating the contents. Jars of herbs, insects and potion ingredients sat upon the shelves to their left, each carefully labelled in an elegant handwriting that must have belonged to Bethany Ward. Lauren had tried to count them, but they ranged well into the hundreds, maybe even over a thousand, and each had been meticulously placed in alphabetical order. There were enough ingredients in this room to keep them well supplied for the nextcouple of years.

To their right the shelves were larger to accommodate the variouscauldrons, scales, vials, stirring rods, and ladles. Protective dragon hide gloves and aprons hung upon hooks in intervals along the shelves, the heavy leather still in impeccable condition after all these years.

The rack at the very end of the room housed various vials of already brewed potions that included Burn Salve, Blood Replenishing Potion, Dittany, Calming Draught and Pepper-Up Potion - to name a few. It would seem that Bethany compartmentalized this part of the room as a medicine cabinet of sorts, which was a good idea considering the amount of disastrous accidents that could occur whilst brewing volatile potions.

Lauren’s gaze slowly drifted over the room and not for the first time she had to wonder whether all of this had been prepared just for her. It certainly felt that way.

Movement distracted her from her thoughts and she glanced over to see Snape now moving further into the room, his strides even and slow and barely echoing on the stone floor as he silently took in his surroundings. His features were set into a mask devoid of emotion – except his eyes. His dark gaze glinted with Lauren could only describe as awe that was gradually morphing intoa flicker of excitement.

As Lauren watched him, she realized what was disconcerting about the imagery. Snape looked as though he belonged here, andthis was his domain and she was but the guest here.

“What do you think?”

Snape paused, his back turned to her. Then he slowly turned around to face her. Snape didn’t have to say anything. His expression said it all: he was completely, and irrevocably, in love with this room.

Lauren felt a pang of jealousy, for no man had ever looked at her like that.

“I thought, if you were agreeable, that we could continue our Potion brewing lessons...”

Snape was silent for a moment, his gaze flickering over the room once more. “I find that arrangement agreeable, Miss Ward,” he finally murmured.

A delighted grin sprang unbidden to her face and Lauren realized that she had been apprehensive that he would decline, mainly as punishment for the whole ‘Daddy’ episode. Though, knowing Snape, he would find a way to make her pay for that.

“There’s another room I want to show you.”

Snape arched a brow, but then his dark gaze flickered to the door on the other side of the room, and he quickly put two and two together.

Lauren didn’t wait for his reply and strode over to it, opening the door and stepping inside.

The room was roughly the same size as the lab and was currently bare of any furnishings, save for an ornatelycarved bookshelf that stood proudly at the very end of the room, numerous books dealing with various defensive spells stacked upon its shelves. The room was ideal for what she had in mind.

Lauren felt Snape’s presence like a dominant force as he came to stand behind her.

“I was thinking we could use this room for duelling practice,” Lauren stated.She glanced over her shoulder to see Snape’s penetrating gaze analyzing the interior and seeing the possibilities it presented.

Without a word, he stepped around her and slowly began pacing the room. Then he turned around and Lauren’s breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the ominous lightthat had entered his eyes.

“This will do nicely,” he remarked, the corners of his lips curling into a sardonic smirk.

Without warning he shrugged out of his robes and flung it unceremoniously to the side, where it settled on the cold stone floor in a pool of black.

Lauren stared blankly at his robes and then looked back at Snape questioningly. He now stood before her black slacks, matching shoes and his high-collared cloak which was buttoned all the way to the top, the crisp white of his dress shirt underneath peeking out at the sleeves and collar.

_My, that’s a lot of_ _ buttons...It must take him at least half an hour to get dressed every morning..._

Snape still resembled the dark and foreboding Potion’s Master, yet without his billowing cloak framing his lean form, the image was now jarring. Almost as though he were standingbefore her naked without it.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked.

Snape withdrew his wand from his sleeve. “Beginning our training,” he drawled.

“What? Now?!” Lauren glanced down at her black jeans and forest green tank top, deciding these clothes werenot very comfortable for a duelling session. But judging by the look Severus was giving her, he wasn’t going to let her get changed. Thankfully her unruly waves were tied back in a high ponytail and wouldn’t accidentally get incinerated in the process.

“Yes. Now I suggest you arm yourself with your wand,” he instructed, his voice taking on that poisoned honey tone; so deliciously smooth, yet absolutely deadly. It was then that she knew this was payback for that Daddy comment.

_Bugger._

Lauren sighed, knowing she should have expected this. She struggled to free her wand from the loop of the waistband of her jeans, resigning herself to her fate.

“I could have killed you ten times over, Miss Ward, considering how long it is taking you to retrieve your wand,” Snape commented in his usual acerbic tone.

Lauren huffed, finally freeing her wand. “Well, it’s not like there’s a lot of places to put a wand.Pockets weren’t specifically designed for them, you know.”

Snape merely stared back at her with an unreadable gaze. Then in a swift, fluid motion he snapped into a fighting stance, one that Lauren had come to associate with duelling.

His body was angled so that he was now facing her side-on, his legs apart and slightly bent, and his posture rigid and ready to strike. His wand was pointing directly at Lauren, and his other arm was extended behind him in counterbalance.

His dark eyes were narrowed in on her, observing her like a predator would its prey, and Lauren had to resist the urge to instinctively step back.

Then Severus straightened up with fluid ease, his arms to his side and his posture seemingly relaxed. But Lauren wasn’t fooled. She knew he could incapacitate her twenty-four times over before she even had a chance to blink.

“When duelling, that is the stance to take,” he lectured as he strode towards her. “In a real battle, however, things are less...refined. There will be no formalities or niceties, so it will be pointless to teach you as such. I am going to instruct you how to fight ruthlessly and without mercy, because I can guarantee you that your enemies will do exactly the same. If you have any hope of surviving, then I suggest you follow my instructions carefully, Miss Ward.”

Lauren hung on his every word, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach as he brought home a simple yet unsettling truth:war was not pretty. It was brutal and destructive and very few came out of it unscathed or unchanged.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “This is not a game, Miss Ward. The skills I am going to teach you could very well be the difference between life and death. Do you understand?”

Lauren swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in her throat and gave him a single nod, never breaking eye contact.

“Yes. That’s why I wanted you to teach me. I knew there would be no pussyfooting when it came to you.”

“Pussy-footing?”

“Yeah. It means...”

“I am well aware of what it means, Miss Ward,” Snape interrupted. He rubbed his forehead and continued in an exasperated tone, “Regardless of some of the things I have heard you say, you still manage to astounded me sometimes with what comes out of your mouth.”

Lauren started to smile, but faltered. “Wait. Was that an insult or a compliment?”

Snape merely smirked at her and turned around, striding briskly back to his position a few feet away from her. Then he spun around and faced her.

“Get into position,” he instructed.

Lauren haltingly tried to conform her stance into a replica of Snape’s, but knew she must have failed miserably when he gave an irritable huff and was once more by her side in a few quick strides.

“Feet wider apart,” he snapped, nudging her feet with his own. “Bear more weight on your back leg and keep your knees slightly bent. Angle your body to the side. It is a defensive stance and narrows the target area,” he ordered in rapid-fire succession. “Extend you arm out and keep your other arm behind you in counterbalance. Your grip on your wand should be firm and steady at all times.”

It took a good ten minutes until Snape was finally satisfied that she had mastered the stance.

Eyeing her form critically, he gave a single nod of his head and instructed her to relax. Lauren let out a breath of air as she straightened up, feeling like she had just been grilled by a sergeant major.

“Today we will be focusing more on defensive rather than offensive strategies. I am well aware that you know the _Stupefy _and _Exp__elliarmus _spells, and have used them quite effectively in the past. But there is another spell that is imperative that you know and have in your arsenal. Many do not consider it as important as the more powerful spells, yet it will protect you from some of the more...unsavoury attacks which, believe me, can have you wishing for death in a matter of seconds. Do you know which spell I am referring to?”

Lauren shook her head slowly from side to side.

Snape’s eyes glinted and it did not escape Lauren’s notice that he was thoroughly enjoying this lesson, teaching a subject he was well versed in, as well as having the undivided attention of a student who was not only paying attention, but really wanted to learn as well.

“Does _Protego _ring a bell?”

Lauren’s brows furrowed as she tried to remember what that particular spell did. She recalled reading about Potter using it on a few occasions.

“It’s...it’s a shield charm, isn’t it?” she ventured.

“Yes, it is. And it is very important to perfect that spell, Miss Ward. I cannot emphasize enough just how important it is.”

“But it will not protect me from the Killing Curse,” Lauren pointed out.

Snape regarded her before replying flatly, “No. There is no defence against that curse except, if possible,avoidance.” Snape straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back as he started pacing unhurriedly back and forth. “We will gradually work our way up to more complex and difficult nature of duelling. For now we shall concentrate on learning the basics.”

Lauren gave a nod of agreement.

“Now I want you to cast the Shield Charm while I fire hexes at you.”

Lauren suddenly felt nervous. “What kind of hexes?”

A sly look graced his features and he stated nonchalantly, “None that will leave you permanently disfigured, Miss Ward.”

“Just temporarily?” she clarified, her eyes narrowed. His stunt with the Firewhisky had taught her to read carefully between the lines when it came to him.

“Maybe.”

“Thought so.” Lauren drew in a breath and steeled herself. “Okay. Teach me how to cast _Protego._”

Snape looked almost approving and then proceeded to demonstrate the spell, which Lauren then tried to replicate. An hour later – after much cursing on Lauren’s part and impatient snapping on Severus’, she could finally cast a passable shield charm.

“Okay. I think I’m ready. Fire away,” she stated, steeling herselfas she cast her shield.

A cruel smile curled his lips. “As you wish, Miss Ward.” Then without warning he pointed his wand and uttered a spell in the span of a split second.

Lauren didn’t have time to brace herself, or her shield, and it soon gave way under the sheer force of his spell. Lauren was flung back, landing hard on the floor and the very air being expelled from her lungs. A low groan of pain escaped her lips as she stared dazedly up at the ceiling.

Snape’s face appeared in her field of vision. “Get up,” he ordered.

Lauren groaned and rolled over, struggling to her feet. “I think we should have padded the room,” she muttered.

“That would have taken considerable amount of time and magic to perform, especially in a room this size. Now cease your complaining – I’m going fairly easy on you.”

Lauren’s eyes narrowed into slits.

_Going easy on me, my ass!_

“I’m going to be black and blue by the time this is over, aren’t I?”

Snape’s sardonic smile was her only answer.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The following morning found Lauren hunched over the kitchen table, her head cradled in her hands and a piping hot cup of tea that Blinky had prepared for her sitting in front of her, untouched.

To say everything hurt was an understatement. And the worst part was that she had nothing to show it. She still hadn’t managed to shield herself from any of Snape’s jinxes – some of which had left quite a few marks.

After a few hours, Snape had stopped abruptly and had eyed Lauren critically. Then, without a word, he had gone over to the ‘medicine cabinet’ and had selected a bruising salve along with a healing salve for her.

Lauren wished he had remembered to give her something for her aching body, but the paranoid part of her suspected that this had been intentional on his part.

A sharp mental nudge alerted her to the fact that the Dungeon Master had returned for presumably round two.

Lauren groaned and reluctantly allowed him entrance.

The fireplace flashed green in her peripheral vision and soon Snape swept into the room, coming to stand beside her.

Lauren slowly raised her head to look up at him, wincing as her body protested against the movement.

“Is there any way to automatically allow you entrance so that you come and go as you please. I really don’t think I want to be mentally buffeted by you on a regular basis. It’s bad enough that you’ve beaten me black and blue – leave my mind in peace.”

His signature cruel smirk made its way to his features as he stared down at her. “You were meant to feel the pain, Miss Ward. You need to experience the reality of war, andyou need to know what it means to be in a proper magical fight, as well as experience the after effects...Though I was lenient on you.”

Lauren scoffed, clearly not believing the ‘lenient’ part, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that Snape’s actions could have been worse. Sure she had been thrown around and had gotten some impressive bruises, but she hadn’t really been in that much pain. All she was experiencing now were aches and pains that were akin to a strenuous exercise session.

She turned her attention to her tea and took an appreciative sip, closing her eyes as she revelled in the much needed caffeine fix.

When she opened her eyes, a small vial slid into her line of vision and she instantly recognized it as a pain potion.

“Thank you,” she muttered as she placed her cup of tea back down on the table and reached for the much needed potion.

Snape seated himself opposite her, watching her with a dark gaze as she downed the contents of the vial.

“I was thinking...”

“Uh oh,” Lauren groaned.

His smile broadened at her show of apprehension. “Seeing as how you are opposed to me being in your mind today, we shall skip the Occlumency lesson and concentrate on potion brewing instead.”

Lauren leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. A cheeky smile played on her lips as she asked, “And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you really want to use my lab?”

Snape replied back with the most perfect poker face she had ever seen. “Absolutely.”

Lauren chuckled at his blunt honesty and shook her head before taking another sip of tea. “In that case, I think that’s a splendid idea. You won’t be in my head, or beating me to a pulp. I think it’s a win-win situation.”

“Oh quit your exaggerations,” Snape muttered with an eye roll. “You would know if I beat you to a pulp.”

Lauren did not disbelieve him and downed the rest of her tea. Placing her cup down on the table she stated, “By the way, you still owe me a bottle of Firewhisky. Preferably untampered.”

“Not happening,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair and the corners of his lips twitching.

Lauren sighed, knowing it was no use arguing with him. Her gaze was drawn to his many buttoned cloak, and the memory of yesterday came to the forefront of her mind. Snape, from what she had discerned after he had shed his voluminous robe, possessed a lean frame. He wasn’t what she would term as thin and gangly, nor was he muscular, but there was no doubt that there was a raw power thrumming beneath the exterior, carefully contained. He reminded Lauren of a sleek panther; lean and lithe, and definitely not someone you dared mess with.

Snape caught her staring and arched a brow.

Lauren flushed at having been caught staring and asked as deflection, “Have you eaten?”

“Yes. Have you?” he countered.

“Ah...Nope,” Lauren admitted, popping the ‘p’. “I was working up the energy to do so before you arrived.”

“Really? It looked as though you were sulking.”

Lauren glared at him. “I wasn’t sulking. I was...recuperating.”

His eyes flashed in amusement. “Blinky,” he called out.

The elf immediately appeared by his side, staring up at him with her large blue eyes. “Yes, Master Snape?”

“Can you please bring Miss Ward some breakfast? And a cup of tea for me, please.”

The house-elf bowed and was like watching a little whirlwind as she went about her task, her happy humming floating back to their ears as she cracked some eggs into the frying pan.

A soft tapping on the window caught Lauren’s attention and she turned her attention to the source of the sound to find a handsome tawny owl perched on the ledge outside, staring at her with large, round yellow eyes. Lauren frowned at it in confusion before it dawned on her as to why the owl was here.

“I’ve got a letter!” she exclaimed, scooting out of her seat and opening the window. The owl swooped into the room and made a lazy circle before landing with prideful elegance upon the table, holding out its leg for Lauren to take the letter attached to it.

Blinky chose that moment to serve a large plate of eggs, bacon, toast and sausages at Lauren’s place setting before bring Snape his requested cup of tea.

Lauren settled back in her seat with a murmured thanks to the house-elf and retrieved the letter from the owl’s leg. She laid the letter down on the table and broke off a piece of buttered toast for the owl. The owl happily accepted the offering and Lauren glanced down at her plate, a thought entering her mind as she eyed the hearty meal before her.

“Can you wait a moment?” she asked the owl. The owl merely stared back at her with an unblinking gaze, but made no further move to leave, which Lauren translated as agreement. Lauren twisted in her seat to see Blinky now washing up the frying pan that was almost as large as her head. “Blinky?”

The house-elf immediately let the pan drop back into the soapy water and was instantly at Lauren’s side, eagerly looking up at her as she waited to hear what Lauren wanted.

“Can you prepare a package of food that won’t spoil easily? I need to have it delivered.”

If the elf was confused by this request, she didn’t show it. She merely bowed her head and scampered off to do as she had been commanded.

Lauren turned back to her plate of food, but faltered when her eyes locked with the dark penetrating ones of Severus Snape. He was regarding her in utter silence, though it was plain by the ever so delicate arch of his brow that he expected an explanation.

“It’s for Harry,” Lauren admitted. “The Dursley’s, if memory serves me correctly, are practically starving him this summer.”

His brow rose even higher, almost touching his hairline. “And you care why?” he asked.

Lauren shrugged as she proceeded to cut up her sausage. “I know what it’s like to be hungry.” She offered up no further elaboration and, thankfully, Snape did not push the subject and let her eat her breakfast in peace while he watched her over the rim of his cup.

Blinky soon appeared with a square box neatly wrapped in brown paper. Lauren thanked the elf and then turned to the owl, who had taken to stealing bits of bacon from her plate while it waited.

“Will you be able to deliver this?” she asked as she scribbled Harry’s address on the package. She deliberately left no return address.

The owl blinked once and then hooted softly, which Lauren took for a ‘yes’. She plucked up the last piece of toast and gave it to the owl, who promptly gobbled it down before stretching out its wings. Hopping onto the package, itclutchedthe box securely in its talons before gliding out of the window in graceful flight.

Lauren watched it disappear out of sight and then turned back to Snape, who was studying her with a slight frown etched on his brows. She was expecting some sort sarcastic remark, but he remained oddly silent.Thenhis gaze flickered to the letter resting on the table.

“Are you going to read it?”

Lauren unrolled the parchment to find a neatly penned letter from Tracey. She skimmed over the excitedly written descriptions of the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre Museum, and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Towards the end, Tracey inquired as to whether Lauren knew yet who her guardian was going to be.

Lauren had decided against telling Tracey, as it wasn’t news she really wanted getting around. Not that Tracey was the sort to gossip, but Lauren thought it best to keep it a secret for now.

“It’s a letter from Tracey.” Lauren glanced around, wondering how she was supposed to send a reply. “Hmm, I think I’m going to need to get myself an owl if I want to reply to this letter...Fancy a trip to Diagon Alley?”

Snape levelled her with a stern look. “No.”

Lauren grinned at the firmly stated reply and finished off the last of her breakfast.

The remainder of the morning found Lauren and Snape in the basement, Lauren attempting to brew a Calming Draught while Snape explored and analyzed the contents of the jars in contented silence. Every now and then he would reach out and pluck one up, examining it closely with an analytical gaze.

Lunch time rolled around and Snape placed her potion under stasis when Blinky brought them each a beef and vegetable pie, steam rising up from the golden crust.

As if by some silent agreement, they chose one of the many workstations to eat at, Snape choosing to sit across from Lauren. They ate in silence, Snape not being one for making small talk, but Lauren found she didn’t mind. It was a relaxed atmosphere, and was a clear indication of how comfortable they were around each other now.

Snape’s soft voice broke the silence, his comment catching Lauren completely off guard. “That was a kind thing you did for Potter.”

Lauren glanced up, but Snape was refusing to meet her gaze, instead focusing on his meal. She had no idea what to say to that statement.

“I guess so,” she finally mumbled.

Snape glanced up at her briefly before turning his attention back to his meal, making no further remark. Lauren was puzzled, but decided it was best not to question him.

Snape dabbed the corner of his mouth with a crisp white napkin and rose to his feet. Lauren was fully expecting them to resume their potion lesson, and she followed suit.

His statement, however, caught her by surprise. “I need to pick up some items in Diagon Alley. If you wish to purchase an owl, then you may tag along. But,” he held up a finger in warning, his eyes narrowing, “there will be no silly detour to Muggle London, nor will we be there for an excessively long time. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” Lauren stated, stunned that he was taking her shopping again, especially after last time.

Snape straightened to his full and impressive height and glared down his nose at her. “And no more inappropriate comments.”

Lauren couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her features. “I’ll behave. Promise.”

Snape looked as though he didn’t believe her.

A little over an hour later found Lauren the proud new owner of not an owl, but a raven; its glossy black featherssmooth as satin, and intelligence reflecting in its beady black eyes. She had fallen in love with it as soon as she had laid eyes on it, and had refused to look at any the owls on display.

“I hope he doesn’t try to eat Blinky,” Lauren mused as she and Snape headed back to the alley where the fireplaces were stationed, Lauren carrying the raven in its cage with some difficulty.

A low chuckle sounded from Snape at the very idea. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, though I would love to see the damn bird try. It would be highly amusing.”

Lauren shook her head in amusement. “You really are sadistic.”

Snape didn’t even try to contradict her and a few moments passed in silence. Suddenly Snape asked conversationally, “What do you intend to name him?”

Lauren pondered the question. “Dunno. I’ve never had a pet before.” She glanced up at Snape. “Any suggestions?”

“You’re asking me to co-name a pet with you?” He shot her a look of pure disbelief.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “No, I’m asking for a suggestion. Geez, it’s not like we’re picking out a baby name or something.”

Snape grimaced, but was saved from further conversationon _that _topic as they reached the fireplaces. He produced the jar of Floo Powder from the pocket of his robes and after unscrewing the lid, he held it out for Lauren to take a fistful.

Lauren stepped into one of the fireplaces and was soon transported home, Snape following shortly behind her.

“I’ll show you how to adjust the wards and then I’ll be on my way,” Snape remarked as Lauren placed the cage containing the raven on the kitchen table.

“Okay.”

Snape guided her to the kitchen wall and made her repeat a few incantations as she swept her wand over the rough stone surface. The spot on the wall shimmered golden and then Snape pressed the tip of his wand against the shimmering surface, uttering an incantation of his own. The gold shimmer flared briefly as it recognized his magical signature and accepted the changes, and then it gradually faded into the cold grey stone.

“Is it done?” Lauren asked.

“Yes,” Snape replied curtly as he slipped his wand back into the sleeve of his robe. Then he reached into his pocket and produced a small rectangular box. “This is for you,” he stated, offering her the box.

Lauren frowned as she took it, glancing uncertainly up at him. Receiving gifts from Snape was almost unheard of.

“But...it’s not my birthday.”

“I am well aware it isn’t,” Snape drawled derisively. “It is something that you need and will find highly useful.”

Lauren lifted the lid to find something that was made of leather and looked almost like a harness of some sort.

“What is it?” she asked, shooting Snape a puzzled look.

Snape rolled his eyes and snatched the box from her hand. “Hold out your arm. You’re right handed, correct?”

Lauren nodded.

“Give your left arm,” Snape ordered as he picked up the itemand then flung the now empty box across the room.

Lauren obeyed and had to concentrate on willing her magic down when his fingertips skimmed across her bare skin as he worked on strapping the contraption to her forearm, his brows furrowed in concentration as he worked quickly and efficiently. The scent of herbs and old parchment permeated her senses and Lauren briefly closed her eyes as she was deluged with that odd tingling sensation again.

“Your wand, Miss Ward.”

Her eyes snapped open to find Snape standing before her, holding out his hand expectantly. Lauren flushed and freed her wand from the loop of her waistband, handing it to Snape. He ignored her entirely as he inserted her wand into the loops of the leather strap.

Stepping back, Snape eyed her new gift critically. “It’s a sheath for your wand. You will find it easier to extract your wand from now on. Test it out.”

Lauren blinked in surprise for Snape had been right: this was a very useful gift, and she was stunned that he had even thought to get her one.

She pulled her wand free from the sheathwithout a hitch.

“Oh, it’s perfect!” she exclaimed. “Thank you.”

Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement. Then he straightened up and made to head towards the fireplace. “I’ll see you again tomorrow morning, Miss Ward.”

“Really?” Lauren couldn’t help the excitement that sounded in her voice, for she had only expected Snape to visit once a week at the very least.

Snape paused, arching a brow. “If that is acceptable?”

Lauren gave him a small, genuine smile. “You’re always welcome here, Professor Snape.”

An odd look crossed his features, but instead of replying, he turned and strode over towards the fireplace. Instead of entering it, though,he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Artemis.”

“What?”

“A name for the raven,” Severus explained. “Artemis was the Greek goddess of the hunt, and was the patron and protector of young girls. I thought it would be a fitting name for the bloody bird.” With that parting remark he stepped into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green.

Lauren glanced over at the sleek raven, who was eyeing her with beady black eyes.

“What do you think? You like the name Artemis?”

The raven blinked once and then let out a soft caw. It sounded almost like the distinct sound of approval.

“Artemis it is then,” Lauren stated, grinning happily to herself. Snape, against his initial misgivings, had just co-named a pet with her!


	23. Chapter 23

The progressing weeks marched by in a seamless flurry of activity; Potions, Occlumency and duelling lessons taking up most of her time andleaving very little spare time for much else.

Today, though, Lauren had abundance of leisure time on her hands, and she found herself standing in the grand library, staring mulishly at the extensive leather-bound books lining each and every shelf.

_What’s the use of having all these books at my disposal when I can’t find the one I’_ _m_ _ really _ _looking for_ _?_

Lauren was currently at a standstill with her research regarding venomous snakes – she still hadn’t discovered the particular type of snake Nagini was and, therefore, could not start working on some type of antivenom – much to her growing frustration. So, as a divergence, she had decided to do some side research on the magical bond she and Severus Snape shared.

She had thought it would be a simple enough task. How wrong she was.

Lauren had searched the library in it’s entirety, even enlisting the help of Blinky, but thus far they had discovered nothing on the subject. There were a vast array of books dealing with Potions and antidotes - some of which had been written by Bethany Ward herself. There were other tomes dealing with Herbology, Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, charms, defensive and offensive spells – many of which would come in handy if Lauren could only memorize them all.

The hidden treasure she had come across, though, was a book pertaining to Latin translations. She had put that one aside to peruse later on, which would prove invaluable with understanding what some spells meant and what they did exactly. Not to mention it would also help her translate some of the Slytherin dormitory passwords. Lauren had long ago suspected that Snape created these passwords, as a few months there had been one that had loosely translated into:_ Bane of my existence._ Lauren had been quite certain that this had been a direct reference to her.

But try as they mightLauren and Blinky had found no book even remotely covering the topic of magical bonds.

_I think a visit to Flourish and Blotts is in order..._

That visit would be quite soon as Lauren had just recently received the results from her exams and would need to go and purchase school supplies in Diagon Alley.

Amazingly, she had done exceptionally well with most of her subjects (though History of Magic, unsurprisingly, had been her lowest mark). The real shocker had been her Potions score. Lauren had almost dropped the sheet of paper in shock when she had reviewed her mark. Even by Snape’s standards, it had verged on being outstanding.

Lauren knew that Snape believed that she had a natural aptitude for the subject, but seeing the score on paper had been a confirmation of her abilities. It was oddly exhilarating to know that not only was she starting to thrive in her new world, but was also excelling for the first time in her life.

An elegant swoop of black entered the room and Artemis came gliding into her field of vision, looping lazily around the library before landing gracefully upon the back of a chair and ruffling his glossy black feathers as he settled. He then let out a sharp caw before extending his leg, revealing the letter that was attached to it.

“Tracey sent back a reply, did she?” Lauren asked, fondness seeping into her voice as she spoke to her pet.

Artemis responded with a gurgling croak, tilting his head to the side and eyeing her with those sharp, intelligent black eyes.

Lauren crossed the room and came to stand before him.As she gently stroked the silky feathers upon his head, Artemis’ eyes closed in contented bliss under her ministrations.Lauren gave him one final caress and then untied the letter from his leg.

“Go to the kitchen and see if Blinky will give you a treat,” Lauren instructed as she unrolled the parchment.

Artemis clicked his beak before extending his wings and taking off, gliding out of the room as silently as he had entered.

“And try not to peck her fingers this time!” Lauren shouted over her shoulder at the retreating bird. A distant caw was her only answer and Lauren rolled her eyes. “Bloody cheeky bird.”

Her midnight blue eyes scanned the letter and she stilled as the letter progressed. Tracey wanted to come and visit Sunday afternoon, and her parents wanted to tag along to meet their daughter’s new friend.

Lauren tried not to grimace, her whole being rebelling at the very idea. She had always thought that when she met ‘the parents’, it would be the parents of her significant other. Not a friend’s.

_I really do need to get a life..._

Then another thought occurred to her.

_Tracey will be expecting to meet my guardian...Bugger._

Lauren hastily rolled up the letter and strode from the room, making her way to the kitchen. Artemis was perched upon the back of one of the kitchen chairs, eyeing out the visibly nervous house-elf as she placed a dish of squiggly worms before him and quickly stepping back.

“Behave, Artemis,” Lauren warned as she made her way to the fireplace. As she passed the bird, she swore it rolled its eyes at her like some sullen teenager who had just been denied his bit of fun.

It wasn’t that Artemis hated Blinky, but he did have a rather mischievous side to him and rather enjoyed making the house-elf uneasy. And Lauren wasn’t exempt from his impishness either. Artemis had a fashion of hiding things from her, waiting until Lauren had searched for a few hours before flying off and returning with the long looked-for item clutched tightly in his beak – and he refused to release it until Lauren had stroked his head and had offered him a juicy snack in return.

Artemis, however, was the epitome of best behaviour around Severus. Whenever the Potion Master visited, the raven would swoop onto his shoulder, staying perched there like a silent and well behaved pet until Snape ordered him off. It was clear that the raven adored Snape and looked to him as his true Master; Lauren being more of a second-in-command person in his eyes. And even though she was the one who petted him and fed him, it was abundantly clear that Artemis would gladly trade her with Snape in the blink of an eye.

“Roll you eyes at me again and I’ll use the new hex I discovered to make you completely bald. Then you’ll look like a turkey ready for the oven,” she muttered.

As Lauren knelt in front of the fireplace, she was struck by the fact that she had just sounded like Snape when he was exasperated at her.

_Yup, I really need to get a life..._

She flung a fistful of Floo powder into the fireplace and stuck her head in the green flames, instinctively holding her breath and scrunching her eyes shut as she connected to Snape’s residence. Her knees were already starting to protest at having to kneel on the cold, hard stone floor.

_This is going to be a short conversation, _Lauren mentally noted, vowing next time to have cushions ready and in place.

“Professor Snape?” she stated clearly, opening her eyes and squinting at the weird, distorted sensation of peering through the green flickering flames.

She waited a few seconds but there was no reply, nor any movement within what looked like his living room. She tried again but there was no response.

“Professor Snape!” she snapped. “Answer your bloody fireplace! Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is?!”

“Hence the reason for making you wait,” came the familiar sarcastic drawl that jolted her stomach and had it doing flip-flops, and that odd warm feeling to settle deep within her chest like a deep rooted tree– a sensation which she stubbornly tamped down.

“Arse,” she muttered.

Snape drifted into view, seemingly in no rush, and knelt in front of his fireplace. “To what do I owe this...pleasure?” Lauren did not miss the pause, nor the inflection of sarcasm that had seeped into his query.

Lauren drew in a deep breath and instantly coughed as she inhaled soot. Snape waited patiently as she recovered, though he did look pointedly at his wristwatch.

“Can I come through?” she asked, her eyes watering.

“No.”

“Why not? You’ve visited my house,” she pointed out.

“Because I’m afraid that, like an unwelcome house pest, once you gain entrance you’ll never leave.”

Lauren scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. And did you just compare me to a...cockroach? Or a rat? Somehow, I have a feeling I should be offended.”

Snape smirked but true to his nature, he infuriatingly chose not to answer her question and instead deflected with one of his own. “Why have you interrupted one of my rare moments of peace and quiet, Miss Ward, but insisting on plaguing me with your presence?”

Lauren shot him a scowl, but forged on with the initial reason as to why she was contacting him. “Tracey wants to come and visit, and she plans to bring along her parents.”

A sneer twisted his pale features. “And this pertains to me how?”

Lauren tucked a loose wave behind her ear. “I am, um, reluctant to tell her that Dumbledore is my... guardian.”

Snape stared at her for a moment. “And why is that?”

“Considering how Dumbledore pulled the Slytherin victory right out from under our feet at the end of the year, the news might not go down so well. Plus, it’s also weird.” Lauren grimaced at the fact that Dumbledore really was her guardian, even if it was only in writing. “If I do tell Tracey and by some miracle she handles it well...somewhere down the road she might let slip that bit of information. I really don’t fancy the whole school finding out...” Lauren trailed off as her anxiety took over.

Snape sighed deeply, and Lauren instantly recognized the signs that she was going to be lectured.

“Do you understand why Dumbledore specifically chose to be your guardian, Miss Ward?”

“Kinda, but I have a feeling you’re going to enlighten me about something obvious that I missed.”

The corners of his lips curled into a sardonic smirk. “Indeed.” There was a momentary pause and then he continued. “I think the Headmaster intends for it to become public knowledge that he is your guardian.”

“Why?” Lauren could not mask her astonishment. She would have thought that Dumbledore would not have wantedthis bit of newsgetting out.

“Think, Miss Ward. Who is the one wizard the Dark Lord is most afraid of?”

A frown tugged at her brows. “Dumbledore.”

“Yes,” Snape continued in his silky baritone. “By electing to be your guardian, the Headmaster has guaranteed -.”

“My protection,” Lauren finished, comprehension dawning on her as she started putting the pieces together.

“Correct. Once word reaches the Dark Lord that you are under Dumbledore’s protection, he will be more disinclined to try and get his hands on you.”

“Ah,” Lauren drew out, fully understanding now. She dwelt upon the implications of this arrangement, and had to concede that it certainly held merit. “So, I should make it publicly known then?”

“You could...Or you could simply keep quiet. The Dark Lord will find out eventually,” Snape replied with an air of nonchalance.

“How?”

“There are certain members of the Death Eaters that work at the Ministry. When the Dark Lord returns to power, he will try and gather as much information about you as he can -.”

“And he’ll send Lucius Malfoy to look into my records and will discover that Dumbledore is my guardian,” Lauren finished.

“Yes.” If Snape was surprised about her knowledge regarding Lucius Malfoy being a Death Eater, he didn’t show it.

The tension ebbed from her body and Lauren felt marginally better about the situation. “Well...that certainly works. Dumbledore has definitely thought this through, hasn’t he.”

“He may have had some input,” Snape hinted.

Lauren blinked at the insinuation that Snape had had a hand in securing her protection. He would be unable to personally ensure it himself in the future, and had therefore chosen the next best option available to him.

“Thank you,” she finally murmured.

“Though, I should warn you to keep my visits discreet,” Snape warned, ignoring her gratitude. Lauren nodded in agreement, for it would be disastrous if Voldemort discovered that not only was Snape on friendly terms with her, but also had access to her house. “Now, was there anything else, Miss Ward?” he asked impatiently.

“Nope. See you Monday?” she asked hopefully.

In the beginning, Snape had only paid her a visit once or twice a week, but gradually his visits had become more frequent, until he waspractically visiting her every day, where they worked on Potions, Occlumency, and duelling lessons. Saturday and Sundays he usually stayed away, and Lauren tried not to think about how empty the manor felt without him during those days.

“I thought I was supposed to be on holiday,” Snape muttered peevishly.

Lauren’s knees were starting to protest at kneeling for too long upon the unforgiving floor, and she shifted position to help ease the ache. “You make it sound like I’m such a burden,” she grumbled.

“Because you are,” Snape shot back.

With that the connection was cut off rather rudely and Lauren withdrew from the flames, sitting back on her heels and scowling at the flickering green flames.

“Arse,” she muttered before rising stiffly to her feet.

Lauren stretched, her fingertips reaching skywards as she worked out the kinks in her muscles before she relaxed.

_Right. Time to send Tracey a reply._

She grabbed a sheet of parchment, quill and ink bottle, and hastily scribbled a response to Tracey. Blowing the ink dry, Lauren called out for Artemis, who glided into the room a few seconds later and perched upon the back of the chair to her left.Lauren attached the rolled-up note to his leg and, after stroking his head in thanks, the raven took off out through the open window to deliver the letter.

Lauren sat there for a few moments.

_It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and I’m just sitting here in the house doing nothing. I think it’s time to get out for a bit._

Lauren shoved some money into her jean pocket, secured her sheath onto her forearm and insertedher wand before shrugging on a denim jacket that effectively hid her wand.

“Is Mistress Lauren going somewhere?” Blinky asked, having suddenly appeared by her feet and almost causing Lauren to jump in fright.

“Just a quick run to Muggle London,” Lauren replied as she slipped on her pair of Converse.

“By yourself?”

“Yup. I won’t be long.” Lauren grabbed a fistful of Floo Powder and flung it into the fireplace, and soon she was transported to Diagon Alley.

Two hours later Lauren arrived back home, casting a cleansing spell upon herself as she stepped out of the fireplace. She froze when she looked up to see none other than Severus Snape sitting at her kitchen table, a mug of tea clasped between his hands and Artemis perched upon his shoulder.

“Professor Snape?” she asked guardedly as she cautiously stepped further into the room.

“Miss Ward,” he greeted back in that silky tone that promised no good.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she came to a decision and approached the table, settling into the chair across from Snape. She eyed Artemis, who gave a serious of clicking sounds as he tried to rub his head against Severus’ cheek; a gesture the Potion Master quickly put a stop to with a stern look. “Traitor,” she muttered at the bird.

“Blinky informed me that you had left by yourself.”

Lauren cut her gaze to the house-elf, who was immersed in her task of drying a plate. Judging by the tense set in her shoulders, as well as the way her bat-like ears were perked up, Lauren knew the little elf was listening intently.

“Great. I’m surrounded by traitors,” Lauren grumbled. Then, in a clearer voice, she addressed Snape, “I thought I was free to come and go as I pleased.”

“Oh you are. I really am not concerned about what you do during your leisure time.”

“So why are you here then?”

Snape’s lips curled into a sardonic smirk as he leaned forward, his elbows resting upon the hard surface of the table. “Tell me, Miss Ward, what is in your pocket?”

Lauren eyed him, her lips pressed together into a thin line. Snape knew full well what she had purchased – she could see it in his eyes.

“Were you following me?” she asked, feeling outraged.

The way his smirk broadened was answer enough.

Lauren leaned back in her chair and vented irritably. “Oh for fuckity fuck's sake!” She shoved her hand in her pocket and withdrew a miniaturized shopping bag, placing it on the table and enlarging it. “There! Take a look – though you already know what I bought, it would seem.”

Snape’s eyes flickered to the bottles of wine peeking out from over the top of the bag. Then he lifted his dark gaze back to her, his features set in that of nonchalance. “I am curious as to how you managed to get your hands on this. I didn’t think Muggles were allowed to sell alcohol to underage children.”

“Technically, no. But 1992 was...is a bit more lax and not very many bat an eyelid when a child comes to the store to buy something that their parents sent them to get. My father would often send me to the corner store to get him smokes and not once was I ever denied. I figured I would try my luck today and it worked.”

Snape leaned back in his chair and raised his cup to his lips, taking a small sip of his tea as he watched her over the rim of his cup. He then placed it back down on the counter with a soft _clunk_. “Then by all means, have some,” he challenged, his voice taking on that poisoned honey hue.

Lauren’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is this a trick?”

“There is no trickery on my part,” he insisted, his lips slowly curling into a small smile that looked rather ominous.

_Nope, this is definitely a trick_. Lauren could feel it in her bones.

But she decided to play along, more out of curiosity’s sake and to find out what Snape was up to. Lauren withdrew a bottle from the bag and, after fetching a corkscrew, she uncorked it with an audible _pop_.

Lauren hesitated and shot Snape look, but he merely raised a brow and nudged his head in an indication for her to drink up.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Probably.”

Lauren was tempted right there and then to nope right out of there, but stubbornness and curiosity egged her on. She raised the bottle to her lips and took a small, hesitant sip.

She immediately pulled a face of pure disgust before rushing to the sink and spitting the vile stuff out.

“What in the bleeding hell was that?” she spluttered, gagging as the disgusting taste clung to her taste buds in a residual aftertaste.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Snape raising the bottle to his nose and taking a sniff. “Vinegar would be my guess,” he stated, amusement tinting his voice as he placed the bottle back upon the table.

“Did you change it?” Lauren demanded, rounding on the Potion Master.

“No, I did not.”

“Then wh -.” Lauren paused as the answer came to her with clarity, causing a dark scowl to overshadow her features. “Dumbledore.”

“Yes. Now that you mention it, I do recall him mentioning that he planned to place an enchantment upon your home so that the properties of anything alcoholic brought in would be...altered.”

“Into vinegar?”

“It would seem so.”

Lauren rubbed at her forehead, a headache starting to pound within her skull. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised. So trying to turn water into rum wouldn’t work either?”

Snape rose from his seat and Artemis let out an indignant caw before flying off, unamused that his favourite perch had decided to move. “If I were to hazard a guess, the answer would be no.”

“Lovely,” Lauren grumbled under her breath. “Just bloody fantastic. I can’t bring any alcohol over the threshold, and I can’t brew any stuff of my own.”

“Nope,” Snape replied with a hint of snark, popping the ‘p’ the way Lauren did. It was mockery at its finest.

Lauren’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Did you by any chance happen to put that idea in Dumbledore’s head?”

Snape regarded her as he stood at his full height, sensing that her mood had now shifted into dangerous territory and that Lauren was about to lose her temper.

Without warning, Snape turned abruptly and strode towards the fireplace, calling over his shoulder, “I will see you Monday morning, Miss Ward.” And then he was gone in a flash of green.

Lauren growled in a combination of frustration, fury and exasperation, and grabbed one of the bottles of now useless wine, flinging it at the fireplace andcausing it to shatter into a million pieces.

Blinky was immediately by her side, broom and dustpan in hand and she prepared to clean up the mess. But the little elf halted when a second bottled crashed against the stone.

Lauren stared with unseeing eyes at the fireplace that was now strewn with glistening glass that was slick with the spilled vinegar.

Then she turned to Blinky and said in a deceptively calm voice, “Please give those other two bottles to Headmaster Dumbledore with my compliments and tell him I have received his message loud and clear.”

With that she strode from the room and made her way to the lab, the one place that offered her peace and solace. Brewing potions centred her and would be constructive in soothing her roiling temper. Either that, or she would end up blowing the basement up. Either option worked well for her.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren stood in front of the fireplace, feeling distinctly nervous as she rubbed her clammy palms against her jeans. She glanced down at her wristwatch for what felt like the thousandth time and blew out an exasperated breath.

_I shouldn’t be nervous. I’m only meeting Tracey’s parents, _she chided herself. _No big deal. If I can handle Snape, I can handle them._

The thought of Severus Snape had her scowling as her anger returned to the surface.

_He bloody conspired with Dumbledore to tamper with my alcohol stash!_

It felt very much like a betrayal, but part her wasn’t even surprised that he had done such a thing. Personally, she had been half expecting something like this.

_It was quite __an__ ingenious __plan__, __even I have to admit that__. I can'__t bring any alcohol into the house, and I can’t go out in public and drink because I’m underage,_ Lauren thought grudgingly, with just a hint of respect at those two conniving masterminds_. As clever as it was, it doesn’t mean __that __I still can’t be pissed about it. And I __plan to__ fully exercis__e__ my right to be pissed._

Lauren’s mental rant was cut short by the bright flare of emerald green within the hearth, and she immediately straightened up, schooling her features.

Tracey soon stepped out of the fireplace, followed shortly by her parents. Lauren could immediately discern that it was her father who was a wizard and her mother a Muggle.

Tracey’s father was tall and wiry, with thinning dark brown hair parted neatly to the side. He was clean shaven, which only served to enhance his almost hollow cheeks and chocolate brown eyes. What outed him as a wizard was the cobalt blue suit he was sporting, paired with a black tie speckled with yellow polka dots. In his hand was clutched a black bowler hat trimmed with yellow, which matched his tie perfectly.

Wizards, Lauren had surmised, were rather fond of dressing eccentrically.

Tracey’s mother, on the other hand, wore a lovely and respectable rose gold summer dress that accentuated her slim figure.Matching wedges to complete the outfit, andher rich brown hair was cut into a similar bob as her daughter’s. In fact, the resemblance of mother and daughter was uncanny, and it was like looking at an older version of Tracey, just Muggle. And, by all accounts, Tracey’s mother was a normal Muggle woman.

Before Lauren could open her mouth, Tracey barrelled into her and enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s only been a few weeks, Tracey,” Lauren grunted as she pried the unusually affectionate girl off of her, not used to Tracey acting in such a manner.

“Oops. Sorry. I forgot you’re not the hugging type,” Tracey quipped, stepping back and turning her attention to her mom and dad.

“Mum. Dad. I would like you to meet Lauren Ward, my friend at school.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Lauren stated, minding her manners as she stiffly extended her hand for a formal handshake.

Tracey’s father bounced forward on the balls of his feet and shook her hand vigorously, beaming down at her.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lauren. Tracey has told us so much about you.”

Lauren cut her gaze to her friend, wondering just how much Tracey had really told them. If, in fact, they had heard every unfiltered truth about her, they would have probably forbidden their daughter from associating with her indefinitely.

_So only the good stuff then. Or absolute lies..._

Tracey’s father released her hand and then the mother was shaking Lauren’s hand, her handshake much more subdued and gentle. She gave Lauren a small, reserved smile, though warmth radiated from her pale heart-shaped features in a subdued glow.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” she declared in a softy, husky voice that suited her maturity.

“Lauren, this is my mum and dad, Persephone and Silas,” Tracey stated, ending the introductions as she gazed around the kitchen with open curiosity. She thencut her gaze to Lauren. “So where is your guardian?”

“Oh, uh...he thought I would like to have some time alone with my friend,” Lauren supplied, an awkward smile stretching unnaturally on her lips.

“Oh, yes. Tracey did mention that you were living with a guardian,” Tracey’s father piped up jovially. He was the complete opposite in personality compared to his wife; outgoing to Persephone’s reserved nature.

“So who is he?” Tracey asked with unrestrained excitement at the prospect of learning who this mysterious person was.

Lauren gulped. She really didn’t want to have to deal with the reactions that was sure to follow at her announcement.

“Lauren?” Tracey asked, frowning as she noted her friend’s trepidation.

“Dumbledore!” Lauren blurted out.

The silence that descended upon the room was almost painful.

“What?” Tracey croaked, looking distinctly horrified.

“The Headmaster of Hogwarts?” Silas asked, shooting his wife a bewildered look.

“The very same,” Lauren mumbled, twisting a strand of hair around her index finger; a nervous childhood habit that she had long since broken, butwhich had now returned with a vengeance.

“What?...How?” Tracey asked, her voice almost shrill. “Does he really live here with you?”

“He, uh, checks up on me daily,” Lauren lied. “Blinky, my house-elf, takes care of me when he’s not here.”

Silence weighed heavy upon the room, almost suffocating. Lauren shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, thinking this had been a really bad idea.

_Why did I have to listen to Snape?_

“Well, this is Dumbledore we’re talking about. I can’t imagine anyone being a more suitable guardian,” Silas exclaimed after getting over his initial shock, and effectively breaking the stifling disquiet.

“But he leaves you alone most of the time?” Persephone asked.

“He knows I prefer it that way. I grew up an...orphan. I am used to being on my own and I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Besides, if I need something I only have to contact him and he’ll be here,” Lauren hastily reassured. The last thing she needed was for these two making complaints to the Ministry about her well-being.

Thankfully, Tracey’s parents seemed pacified by this explanation, nodding slowly to themselves.

“How about a cup of tea?” Lauren deflected, smiling brightly at the congregated family before her.

Three pairs of eyes blinked back at her, and Lauren decided to call Blinky and have her make some tea for her guests.

Tracey’s mother was somewhat startled by the sight of the elf, and Silas had to quickly explain that house-elves were common, especially among the older blood-lines. Lauren suspected that Tracey’s household did not have an elf tending to their every need, if her mother’s reaction was anything to go by, and Lauren was somewhat surprised by this revelation.

The afternoon was spent getting to know Tracey’s parents. Lauren soon learned that Tracey’s father worked for the Ministry in the Department of Magical Artefacts, and her mother was a secretaryat some law firm in the Muggle world.

The tension and awkwardness soon gave way to comfortable conversation, and Lauren was quite taken with the pair.

Lauren then gave them a tour of the house and she could see the literal appreciation writ on each of their features, especially when she showed them the library. Lauren decided to forego showing them her lab, as she didn’t want questions to arise that she didn’t want to answer: questions about whether she was brewing on her own and, if not, who was overseeing her potion brewing. She had to keep Snape’s involvement strictly secret. Even from her friend.

By the end of their visit Lauren had to admit that she quite liked Tracey’s parents. Her father was really easy going and down to earth; inquisitive as he fired away questions about her ancestry, her past, and her likes and dislikes. His eyes had practically bugged out of his eyes when he had learned that she was a descendant of Bethany Anne Ward.

Persephone, though reserved and quiet in her observations, carried a distinct motherly instinct, and as they prepared to Floo back home she showered Lauren with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

They said their farewells, Tracey promising to visit soon, and soon they were gone in a flash of green.

The house was now distinctly quiet and empty, and Lauren had to ponder the lonelinessthat settledwithin her like the deep waters of a still lake. She wasn’t one to seek out human companionship, so she could not understand this lonesome feeling.

_I’m getting goddamn soft in my old age.._

Lauren shook her head and decided to head to the library, choosing a book to occupy her mind for the few remaining hours of the day, which was quickly morphing into twilight. Blinky served her a dinner of fish and chips, which Lauren ate in the library as she continued to become immersed in her book.

“How did your play-date go?”

Lauren yelped and leapt from her chair, her book dropping to the floor with a _thud _that echoed throughout the room. She spun around, coming face to face with Severus, who was staring down his nose at her with his dark, fathomless eyes.

“My...what?” she stammered.

“Your play-date.”

Lauren scowled. “Play-dates are for kids.”

“Exactly.” Mischievous amusement glinted in his eyes.

Lauren glared daggers at him before turning abruptly and picking up her book off the floor. “Did you come here just to be an arse, or was there something else?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Snape breezed past her in a billow of black and settled into the other armchair facing her own, both placed strategically in front of a fireplace. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles, steepling his fingers in front of him as he regarded her. Artemis, as if on cue, glided into the room and settled upon the armrest of his chair, cawing softly at his favourite human. Snape glanced at the bird and then absently stroked his head, the raven practically becoming putty under his his slender-fingered hand.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Snape drawled.

Lauren growled and settled heavily into the other chair, knowing she wasn’t going to get rid of Snape so easily.

“No, I didn’t. Besides, why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

Lauren mentally rolled her eyes. _If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be here._ But she didn’t dare voice her thoughts out loud. Snape was not one who indulged in heart-to-heart emotional talks, and most certainly did not talk about his feelings, no matter how platonic.

“I’m still angry at you.”

“I’d be very surprised if you weren’t,” Snape countered, seeming very much unfazed by her statement. “Your penchance for holding onto a grudge rivals that of my own.”

“True.”

“I could simply remain absent for the remainder of the summer holidays until you get over it,” Snape threatened idly, a teasing tone entering his voice.

Despite herself, a smile crept onto her face. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Undeniably so.”

“Arse.”

“Please stop stating the obvious, Miss Ward. It’s getting tiring.”

“Why don’t you ever call me by my first name?” Lauren, logically, knew this shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

Snape was silent for a moment as he mulled her question. “Boundaries must be set firmly in place. Calling each other by first names implies -.”

“Friendship?”

“Familiarity.

“And friends are familiar with each other. It doesn’t have to mean anything more,” Lauren protested stubbornly.

Snape levelled her with a stern look. “Regardless, you are still my student. And, as your Professor, some boundaries must not be crossed. Do I make myself clear, Miss Ward.”

Lauren sighed, knowing she was fighting a lost cause. “Perfectly.”

Silence descended once more as they both stared into the fireplace, watching the orange flames licking hungrily at the dry logs.

Lauren glanced over at Severus, blinking at the way the flames cast a dim glow upon his pale features, making him seem like someone who resided half in the shadows.

_Severus Snape does half live in the shadows, half in the light..._

Lauren decided to change the subject, as well as to break the silence, and stated, “I received my marks from my exams...”

Snape slowly turned his head to regard her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “And?”

“I did surprisingly well,” Lauren boasted, feeling immensely proud of herself. “Though I was rather surprised by my Potions mark.”

“And why is that?” Snape drawled, turning his attention back to the flames within the hearth, his features an unreadable mask.

“I scored an exceptionally high mark...High even for your standards.”

Snape remained silent for a moment. “Unlike some, I do not grade based on favouritism. I grade my students based on their skills. And you have shown remarkable skill in Potion brewing, Miss Ward.”

That glowing warm ember within her chest flared at his high praise, threatening to consume her entirely. An odd, fluttery feeling seeped into her very core, making her feel bubbly and as light as a feather.

“If you had scored us based on favouritism, what score would I have received?”

“Zero,” Snape replied instantly.

And just like that the light bubbly sensation vanished, replaced with an almost gut-wrenching disappointment.

Snape glanced at her and, noting the crestfallen look upon her face, smirked. “Were you expecting another answer?”

“No.” _But I had ‘hoped’ for a __better one__._

Lauren drew in a deep breath and decided she was being silly for feeling hurt by a comment that had come from Snape, who was famous for his barbed tongue.

“So, who scored the highest mark in Potions?” she deflected, refusing to meet his gaze.

Silence was her only reply and Lauren finally glanced over at him, only to see an impervious brow arched at her question, almost as though he was saying:_ Who do you think?_

“Oh,” Lauren breathed out as comprehension dawned on her. “Really?”

“Yes, Miss Ward.”

_Bloody hell! I beat Hermione Granger! _

A huge grin stretched upon her lips and Lauren let out a delighted chuckle. A smile crept upon Snape’s face as he witnessed her exultation, and in that moment he looked genuinely happy for her.

“It was well deserved,” he remarked as he rose from his seat. Artemis ruffled his feathers, but stayed upon the armrest of the chair.

Lauren felt absolutely giddy as she stared up at him and contentment settled deep within her. “I was right. You do care.”

“I do not,” Snape stated firmly.

Lauren straightened up in her chair, tucking her foot under her knee and suddenly serious. Her merriment from moments ago had suddenly evaporated. “Why is it so difficult for you to admit it?”

Snape was stoically silent, a hardness glassing over his features. Lauren thought he was not going to answer, but he surprised her by stating in an almost hushed tone, “Because it is a difficult question.” With that, he turned and strode from the room without saying goodbye.

Confusion washed over Lauren as she slumped back in her armchair.

_What did he mean by that?_

Lauren cradled her cheek in the palm of her hand, her elbow planted firmly on the armrest as she contemplated the true meaning of his words.

_Is it a difficult question because Snape doesn’t know exactly why he cares at all? Or is it a difficult question because he knows why he cares but doesn’t want to tell me? Or is it much more complicated than that?_

Lauren still didn’t have an answer by the time she made her way to bed. The only one who could answer that question was Snape, and he wasn’t telling.


	24. Chapter 24

Lauren had put it off long enough, and now she stood before the fireplace in her kitchen, trying to work up the courage for the dreaded task at hand.

School supply shopping in Diagon Alley.

She shuddered at the thought. She really didn’t fancy being among harried and panicky parents, who would surely be surrounded by theirequally annoying kids as they scrambled to buy the essentials needed for the school year.

_I really wish they would_ _ invent online shopping _ _in the wizarding world_ _...It would make everything so much easier..._

Lauren glanced over at Artemis, who was perched on the edge of the kitchen table and was busy gulping down raw chunks of meat with enthusiastic gusto.

“Wish me luck,” she muttered.

Artemis paused, eyeing her with beady black eyes that reflected his true inner thoughts: _You’re being an idiot. _He couldn’t even be bothered to caw out a sound that could have been misconstrued as encouragement, and instead returned his attention back to his food, blatantly ignoring her.

_I think some of Severus’ traits have rubbed off on you, _she thought irritably.

Lauren smoothed down her shirt and, after a quick glance at the ominously overcast skies outside, went to grab a pastel sky-blue hued pullover that was luxuriously soft and comfy. Lauren donned the clothing item, the baggy sleeves giving her easy access to her wand which was sheathed to her forearm.

Returning once more to the fireplace, Lauren sucked in a deep and, after steeling herself, flung a fistful of Floo powder into the flames.

She stepped into the now innocently burning green flames and stated in a loud, clear voice, “Diagon Alley!”

She was instantly transported in a stomach churning whirlwind that made her feel like a spinning top, and was immensely grateful when she finally arrived at her destination. Her relief, though, was immediately replaced by abject vexationwhen she stepped out of the fireplace and was engulfed by a swarm of bodies pressing against her from all sides as shoppers frantically made their way to and from Diagon Alley.

Lauren scowled, her mood now distinctly foul. She hated crowds and avoided them when she could.

_Bloody fantastic, _a bitter sounding voice echoed in her head. _Just great!_

Lauren tried to make her way through the crowd, but very few paid much attention to the petite twelve-year-old. Finally losing her patience and temper, Laurenstarted shoving and pushing her way through the throng, eventually breaking through and stepping into a less crowded clearing.

_Screw this! Never again! Next year I am so not leaving this to the last minute like everyone else! I don’t care if I have to threaten Dumbledore within an inch of his life – he will give me the list early so I don’t have to go through this again._

Speaking of which, Lauren withdrew her crumpled list from tight confines of her jean pocket and scanned through the items she would need. She paused when she saw the lists of books she was going to have to purchase, anda groan escaped her lips.

All the books, save one, were by Gilderoy Lockhart, and she was required to buy each and every one of them.

_Great. Just f_ _uc_ _king great. I’m going to waste a _ _pile_ _ of money on useless books written by an equally useless _ _idiot_ _._

Lauren’s foul mood was somewhat placated by the thought of the duelling lesson that would transpire between Lockhart and Snape. Severus had certainly, or at least he would, hand Lockhart’s ass to him without much effort on his part.

_At least I have that to look forward to...And, on the bright side, I only have to put up with that dunderhead for a year._

Her thoughts took a darker turn, and Lauren paled at the thought of what else was to transpire this school year.

_The_ _ Basilisk...I can’t forget that there’s going to be a freaking giant snake slithering through the pipes in Hogwarts, trying to murder less than pure-blood students...And that _ _probably _ _includes me!_

Lauren rubbed at her forehead, already feeling stressed out.

_Why me? Of all the fantasy novels I could have been sucked into, it had to be the one where a tyrannical _ _and powerful _ _wizard is hell-bent on causing an all-out war...and a freakin’ Basilisk is set loose! _ _And this is only the beginning..._

Lauren crumpled up her list and shoved it back in her pocket.

_I still have time. This is only going to happen in a few months...Right now I need to get through this blasted shopping trip._

A few hours later (and much verbal insults flung at annoying shoppers) Lauren was just about ready to call it quits. And she still had yet to deal with the most difficult task of all - Flourish_ and Blotts. __The_ book store was sure to be densely crowded, and she had decided to leave that for last.

As she made her way there, dread weighing heavy on her shoulders almostas though she were making her way to the gallows, Lauren paused as she passed a storefront, the display window showcasing items of luxurious splendour. There were hair combs with sparkling rubies encrusted along the handles, satin gloves, gold-encased music boxes, and rings and necklaces embedded with sparkling jewels that were worth a small fortune - items Lauren had no desire purchasing.

No, her attention had been caught by a particular gilded framed hand mirror; simple at first glance, yet at the same time intricately fashioned into a thing of beauty.

_That mirror will come in handy, especially if I have a run-in with the big, bad Basilisk..._

Lauren didn’t want to dwell on the fact that is she did, indeed, have a run-in with the Basilisk, she would either be dead or Petrified.

_Best to be prepared._

A little while later Lauren was the proud new owner of the simple and very much unmagical mirror that did absolutely nothing by reveal one’s reflection. For the price she had paid for it, Lauren had half expected it to do something more, like maybe sing _James Blunt’s _song _You’re Beautiful _every time she looked into it.

Sadly, no. The sales assistant, though, had assured her that the mirror was unbreakable, so at least she didn’t have to worry about seven years bad luck on top of everything else.

Now she could no longer put it off. It was time to head to the dreaded bookstore and hopefully not run into their new and inept Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

_Oh joy._

Lauren steeled herself and made her way to _Flourish and Blotts, _coming to a complete standstill when she saw the lineup that wound all the way outside the doors of the store, the shoppers eagerly waiting to meet the flamboyantly egotistical Gilderoy Lockhart and have their books signed.

Lauren edged past them and went inside to peruse some of the books and, more importantly, find one pertaining to magical bonds.

An hour later her alreadyfoul temper was ready to explode. She had tried to flag down a sales assistant, but the poor bloke was being harried on all sides by pesky shoppers, and had assured her that he would return once he had dealt with another customer. That had been almost an hour ago and Lauren suspected that he had forgotten all about her in all the chaos. Lauren had tried to search for the book herself, but between not really knowing which genre it would be under and the crowded store packed like a tin of sardines, Lauren was having very little luck.

She instead snatched up the one other book that she would need for her school term, _**The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 **_by Miranda Goshawk. The other seven were all Lockhart’s books, and were inadvertently downstairs among the crowd – a crowd that she would have to make (push) her way through.

_I don’t care how much Tracey protests, I am so burning the crap out of these books at the end of the year!_

“Hello, Ward,” came a familiar drawl from behind her.

Lauren whirled around to see none other than the platinum-haired Draco Malfoy watching her with languid ease as he leaned back against the railing. His ice blue eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the furious expression clouding her features, but then after a few seconds a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“It’s good to see you’re still your usual self.”

Despite her foul mood, Lauren smiled back at him, the tension ebbing from her as she saw an opportunity of friendly banter. “Hello, Draco. Good to see you as well. Torment anyone lately?” she asked conversationally as she came to stand beside him.

Draco smirked, crossing his arms in front of him. “I may have made a few seven-year-olds cry.”

“Sounds about right,” Lauren muttered as she leaned her back against the railing, her single book clutched in her hand. All her other purchases had been miniaturized and were safely ensconced in her pocket.

A smile tugged at his lips and Lauren took a moment to study him. His hair was slicked back, bringing out his already developing aristocratic features, andhe was dressed from head to toe in black with a cloak bearing the green and silver Slytherin emblem draped over his shoulders.

Lauren glanced down at her obviously Muggle attire of jeans, shirt and pullover, and felt distinctly ratty standing next to him.

“Lauren!”

Both Lauren and Draco turned to see Tracey scampering up the stairs. Her face was flushed and her eyes were glistening with frenzied excitement, giving her a distinctly wild and scary countenance.

“Isn’t it great!” she enthused as she reached Lauren, clutching her by the upper arms and practically shaking her back and forth in her zealous enthusiasm. “Gilderoy Lockhart is here! _The _Gilderoy Lockhart is here!”

Lauren cringed at the high pitched tone her friend’s voice had taken.

Before she could reply, though, Tracey barrelled on. “I can’t wait to meet him! He’s so dreamy. Let’s go and stand in line and get our books autographed by him!”

Finally having enough, Lauren shrugged out of Tracey’s grasp, a deep scowl of annoyance shadowing her features. “The only Gilderoy Lockhart line I want to stand in is the one where I get to punch him in the face.”

Tracey’s mouth fell open in both horror and shock at her words, and a barely concealed snigger to the side foretold that Draco had found the comment highly amusing.

“I take it you’re not a fan of his?” Draco asked, a wide grin plastered on his face and his eyes dancing with mirth.

“No.”

Tracey looked absolutely scandalized. “Why ever not?”

Lauren drew in a deep breath and answered in rapid-fire succession. “One: he’s egotistical. Two: he’s narcissistic. Three: he’s self-conceited, vain, pompous, megalomaniacal, and a fraud. In short, he’s a prat!”

Two pair of equally stunned expressions stared back at her.

Finally, it was Draco who spoke up, hilarity evident in his tone. “That’s a lot of big words, Ward.”

Tracey, on the other hand, looked absolutely hurt by the fact that Lauren had just insulted her crush. “That was really mean, Lauren.”

Lauren ran her fingers through her hair, really in no mood to tippy-toe around other peoples feelings right now. “Well, it’s the truth. Sometimes the truth hurts, Tracey.”

Tracey pursed her lips together and, without a word, she spun around and flounced down the stairs, her angry stomps echoing back to them.

“Tracey!” Lauren instantly felt remorseful and called after her, but the other girl refused to acknowledge her and continued on down the stairs. Lauren made to go after her but Draco grabbed her by the wrist, effectively halting her pursuit.

“Leave her. She’ll get over it.”

Lauren rounded on Draco. “That’s not the point, Draco. I was mean to my friend – something I shouldn’t have been. I should have been supportive and least pretended to be happy for her, even though I dislike the tosser.”

A puzzled expression tinted Draco’s features as he stared at her, mulling over her words. Lauren suspected that he was often abrupt with his ‘friends’, choosing to them around rather than actually giving any consideration as to how his words and actions would affect and hurt them.

He released his grip on her, his hand dropping back to his side. “So...you’re planning to apologize?”

Lauren sighed. “Yeah. It’s what a good friend would do.”

That perplexed expression deepened.

“Who do we have here, Draco?” came a silky smooth, aristocratically clipped voice from behind them.

Draco instantly straightened up and Lauren whirled around to come face-to-face with none other than Lucius Malfoy in all his splendid, haughty, arrogant glory.

Her mind instantly went blank as she stared at his unbelievably handsome and sinfully beautiful features, even though at this moment he radiated stuck-up snobbishness as he regarded her with reserved haughtiness. Like his son, he was dressed all in black and there, clutched in his hand, was his infamous cane.

“This is, uh,” Draco gave a hesitant pause, glancing uncertainly over at Lauren.Coming to a decision, he continued on, “My friend from school, Father.” Draco stepped forward, coming to stand beside Lauren. “Lauren Ward.”

Lauren’s head whipped around and she stared disbelievingly at Draco.

_I would have gone with ‘frenemies’...but I guess _ _we can’t really tell his father_ _ that._

At the mention of her name, the condescending, snooty attitude immediately dissipated from Lucius’ features.

“_The _Lauren Ward?” he inquired, taking a step towards her as he studied her with undisguised intrigue.

Lauren’s gazed flickered to the cane clutched in his hand, and her mind screamed _pimp stick! _It was with great effort that she managed to school her features and meet the penetrating ice-blue gaze of Malfoy Senior.

“I have heard a great deal about you,” he intoned in that silky smooth baritone of his. “The mysterious descendant of Miss Bethany Anne Ward. Draco’s godfather, and our good family friend, Severus Snape, has let slip that you possess the same talent as your ancestor.”

“So I’ve been told,” Lauren replied, her mind still struggling to function.

_God damn! _ _He is one fine specimen of a man_ _..._ _Pity he’s rotten to the core, though._

Lucius regarded her for a few moments, and Lauren didn’t miss the way his gaze scrutinized her obviously Muggle attire.

“It is quite a mystery about your parentage, though, from what I’ve heard. There’s no mention in your records regarding your parents.”

Lauren’s eyes widened at this news, her mind snapping back into focus. “What were you doing looking into my records?” she asked sharply.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “When a direct descendant of one of the wizarding world’s greatest Potioneer suddenly shows up, it stirs up a great deal of interest within the Ministry. And,” he paused, his eyes glinting with a mixture of cunning and amusement, “when that said descendant makes a rather dubious reference to my cane, well, let’s just say that my intrigue was piqued.”

Lauren was sure her jaw had hit the floor as she gaped at him.

_Ah shit! I’m so dead. The little _ _ferret_ _ told his father _ _about the whole ‘pimp stick’ episode_ _._

Coming to her senses, she shot Draco a look. The boy in question had the grace to look uncomfortable and refused to meet her gaze as he stared down at a suddenly interesting spot on the wooden floor.

Lauren glanced hesitatingly back up at Lucius, sure she was going to have one hell of a fight on her hands. Instead, she was surprised to see a hint of amusement overshadowing his features as he studied her initial reaction.

Tilting his head to the side, he stated politely, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ward.”

He didn’t give Lauren time to recover from her shock and stalked off down the stairs, his posture and clothing screaming high breeding, and his long silver-white hair trailing down his back like a silken waterfall.

Once he was out of sight, Lauren rounded on Draco. “You told him?!” she hissed.

“To be fair, we weren’t friends at the time, Ward,” Draco countered. “And he was just as confused by it as I was at first.”

“Well, he obviously knows what it means now,” Lauren spat. “So why is he being almost cordial towards me and not hexing me into next week?”

Draco glanced away. “I may have mentioned that we have now become...friends.”

Lauren was stunned into silence. She had thought that Draco was just being polite and had introduced her as such to his father. But as she stared at him, she realized that this thing that was developing between them was,in a way, a friendship of sorts. And, at the same time, not.

At her scrutinizing gaze, a deep flush crept up alongDraco’s pale neck. “What?” he snapped, looking clearly uncomfortable.

“Nothing,” Lauren replied immediately, snapping her mouth shut.

_This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder..._

“How about we go and find Tracey and offer our support?” she offered after a few moments of uncomfortable silence had passed between them.

Draco looked almost relieved that Lauren had chosen to deflect, but as he thought about her suggestion, he pulled a face. “Lockhart? Really, Ward?”

Lauren sighed. “I don’t like it any more than you, but it’s important to her.”

Draco thrust his hands into his pocket, and Lauren thought he was going to flat-out refuse. But then a resigned sigh passed through his lips. “You owe me big time for this.”

Lauren rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the elbow, effectively steering him towards the staircase. “If I have to suffer through this, then I think it’s only fair that you should as well.”

“What? That doesn’t sound at all fair!” he protested.

“In case it may have escaped your notice, life isn’t fair, Draco.”

Draco grumbled under his breath as they made their way to the staircase, and instantly froze in place when they reached the top landing. Lauren frowned at the sudden stiff animosity now radiating from him, and followed his narrow, slitted gaze to see none other than Harry Potter being wrestled into a photo op with Lockhart; the flouncy-haired idiot beaming widely for the cameras while Harry stood awkwardly next to him, looking distinctly uncomfortable by all the attention.

“Look at him,” Draco sneered with venomous hatred tinting his voice. “Always getting all the attention wherever he goes.”

Lauren cast a speculative glance at boy beside her, wondering if this animosity was simply derived from plain jealousy. She immediately discarded that thought. If it had to do with something as simple envy, Draco would still hate her since she herself had acquired mild celebrity status within the school.

No, this hatred between the boys seemed to run deeper, and veer more on the side of being complicated. Draco saw Harry as someone who was always outshining him – always the favourite. And it did not settle well with the boy.

“You know he can’t really help it,” Lauren pointed out diplomatically.

Draco whipped his attention in her direction, anger glistening like cool ice within his arctic eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be supportive of your friends, Ward.”

“Yes,” Lauren answered. “But I’ll also tell them when they’re being complete and utter arses.” Lauren breathed in deeply through her nose before continuing. “Believe me, Draco, having all the unwanted attention is not all it’s cracked up to be. It would be different if he was intentionally seeking out being the centre of attention...but he’s not.”

Draco turned his attention abruptly back to Potter, and Lauren could tell that her words hadn’t penetrated his skull, nor was he going to heed her advice.

“I really hate him,” Draco stated, his hissed words barely controlled as he shrugged out of her grasp and made to descend the stairs.

“You know, you don’t have to get all the attention to be important, Draco,” she murmured.

Draco paused, glancing over his shoulder with a confused frown furrowing his brows. Then he shook his head and descended the stairs, his anger roiling off of him in ominous waves.

Lauren pressed her lips together, knowing there wasn’t much she could do to stop him, and made her way back to the railing. She watched from her discreet lofty height as Draco proceeded to taunt Harry and not long after, Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasleygot into a spectacular fight, rolling around in a scrambled heap on the floor. Before, Lauren would have found the sight highly amusing, but not now.

Hagrid bulldozed through the now congregated crowd and pulled the two men apart with very little effort on his part.

It would have been hard to miss if she hadn’t been looking for it, but Lauren witnessed Draco’s father slyly slipping Tom Riddle’s diary into Ginny’s cauldron along with her other school book before he and Draco departed in a huff, followed shortly thereafter by the Weasleys, Grangers, and Harry.

_I can’t do anything even if I wanted to,_ she reminded herself. _Dumbledore was warned me not to meddle with events. But still, __all this could be__ prevented if I st__ole__ that diary..._

Lauren instantly dismissed the seductive thought. Certain events needed to happen and she couldn’t interfere with this one.

All she could do was prepare herself.

Amidst the crowd, Lauren spied the sleek bob that belonged to Tracey,and made her way down the stairs, determined to make amends with her friend – even if it meant putting up with the pompous Lockhart for a few torturous moments.

_This is going to be the longest and hardest __moment__ of my life,_ she thought._ I’m __really __going to __have to __resist hexing him __or punching him in the face__...Not sure if I can manage that. _

Lauren inwardly heaved an exasperated sigh._The things__ I do for friends._

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren stood in front of her fireplace, her school trunk packed and ready, and stationed nearby. Snape had sent an owl yesterday stating that he would collect her a few hours before the Hogwarts Express was due to arrive at the school, bringing with it the students that would fill the halls of the school for the school year.

Lauren had felt great excitement at the news, for she hadn’t seen the Potion Master in almost a week, and was reluctant to admit that she had missed him.

Glancing down at her wristwatch, she noted that she still had a full two minutes to go before Snape was due to arrive. Knowing the Potion Master, he would be punctual as ever and arrive at precisely the correct time – no sooner, no later.

Her gaze landed on Artemis, who was currently prisoner in his cage that was resting upon her trunk. The bird shot her a cold, hard look before deliberately turning his back on her. It had been an interesting and exhaustive hour trying to coerce the stubborn raven into the cage, and Lauren had to eventually resort to bribery of mice. Artemis’ greed had eventually won out and he had grudgingly hopped into the cage. Now, though, he was being very obvious about his displeasure at being cooped up in the cage.

“It will only be for a few minutes,” Lauren assured, clasping her hands behind her back. “Once we get to the school you’ll be free.”

Truth was, she had no idea whether a raven would be an accepted pet at the school, but she wasn’t going to leave him alone here. Blinky had returned to the school a few hours prior, and there would be no one here to take care of the raven.

Artemis ruffled his feathers agitatedly, but ignored her otherwise.

Just then the fireplace flared green and out stepped the dark form of Severus Snape, dressed in his usual black attire. Lauren’s heart stuttered to a painful halt at the sight of him and then resumed, beating a bit faster this time and almost taking her breath away. Lauren briefly pondered these peculiarreactions she was experiencing around Snape lately. They were odd to say the least, andshe had no explanation for it.

Snape cast the cleansing spell upon himself and stepped further into the room, slipping his wand back into the sleeve of his many-buttoned cloak. His dark, penetrating gaze landed on Lauren and narrowed when he noted the way she was working on keeping her expression neutral.

He chose to ignore her slightly odd behaviour, and his gaze landed on Artemis, who had now turned around and was making affectionate croaking sounds in the back of his throat at the sight of his favourite person.

“I don’t think...ravens are on the list of pets allowed within the school, Miss Ward,” he stated, his words enunciated perfectly and spoken in that velvety deep voice that sent illicit shivers down her spine.

_I’ve really got to get a better handle on how Snape affects me...Though why I’m being affected in such a way, I have no idea. It’s not as though I’m attracted to him...He’s an irritating, sarcastic and sometimes cruel arse..._

“Well, I can’t very well leave him here on his own. There’s no onehere to take care of him,” Lauren stated firmly as she stepped closer towards the cage. Artemis eyed her with disdain and pointedly turned his his back on her.

Snape silently glided towards them, and Lauren felt almost lightheaded as the familiar scent of herbs and parchment overwhelmed her.

_Get it together, Ward!_

Snape studied the raven in question, a slight frown furrowing his brows as he formulated a plan. Then he turned sharply to face her. “There is nothing in the school rules about which pets the teachers are allowed...”

“You mean...”

“I’ll take the bloody bird.”

Artemis, almost as though he had understood every word, instantly perked up and gave a delighted squawk in response.

Lauren was slightly taken aback at the fact that Snape was willing to help her out like this. She eyed the excited raven, failing to see any flaws in Snape’s plan. Artemis could still visit her when the mood struck him, and she knew deep down that Snape would take good care of him, regardless of how much he grumbled about the bird. Deep down she knew it was all for show and that he had grown fond of Artemis.

“Nice to see where your loyalties lie,” she stated sarcastically at the bird, though her words held very little heat. She returned Snape’s gaze and gave a nod of assent. “Sounds good. I do wonder how Dumbledore is going to react to having a raven within his school grounds.”

“Considering some of the questionable creatures Hagrid has procured over the years, I think a raven will be the least of his worries.”

Lauren grinned wryly at Snape, her heart doing a somersault when he returned her smile with one of his own, albeit a small guarded one.

“Let’s get you to school,” Snape stated, plucking Artemis’ cage from the trunk and handing him over to Lauren. He then withdrew his wand and miniaturized Lauren’s trunk before scooping it up and pocketing it.

“The Headmaster has allowed us access to his fireplace, so we will be travelling straight to the school,” he explained as he resheathed his wand.

“Is that where you’ve been these last few days? At school?” she asked, trying hard not to sound sullen by the fact that she had not seen him for almost a week.

“Preparations needed to be made for the beginning of the school year, Miss Ward. Preparations, I might add, that were very time consuming,” he replied curtly, his mood turning cantankerous at the prospect of having to soon deal with the ‘dunderheads’ that were the bane of his existence. Or so he claimed. “Now, are you ready to depart?”

Lauren gave a nod, clutching Artemis’ cage tightagainst her chest. Snape grabbed a fistful of Floo powder from the jar resting upon the mantle and flung it into the flames, making them flare abrilliant green. He then curled his hand around her upper arm, his touch somewhat gentle as he guided her into the fireplace. Lauren slammed her Occulmency shields in place at the close contact, and she sensed that Severus had done the same, for their magical reaction to each other was more controlled and subdued than normal.

They arrived at the Headmaster’s office and Snape instantly released his hold on her as he stepped out, Lauren following shortly after. She remained utterly still as he cast a cleansing spell over all three of them, Artemis included.

He then silently took the cage and raven from Lauren and handed back her miniaturized trunk in exchange.

“I’ll take Artemis to my office. The Hogwarts Express is due to arrive in three hours. I trust you can occupy yourself for that length of time?” he asked, a hint of snideness creeping into his voiceas he held the door open for her.

Lauren pocketed her trunk and strode past him, annoyed by his sudden churlish attitude, and didn’t bother replying as she descended the winding stairs. She paused by the stone gargoyle and Snape came to stand beside her.

“Dinner is at seven. Don’t be late.” With that parting comment, he swept past her and strode down the dimly lit hallway, his black robe snapping billowing behind him.

_Well...that was rude. Though, this is Snape we’re talking about. He’s always rude. I wonder if he’s always this abrupt at the beginning of the year?_

Then a thought occurred to her and she raced to catch up to him.

“What is the password to the dormitory?” she huffed, her shorter legs struggling to keep up with Snape’s longer strides.

“Asphodel,” he replied without even glancing down at her.

Lauren frowned. “Isn’t that a flower?”

“Yes.”

Snape was refusing to slow his pace and Lauren struggled to keep in stride with him, having to practically jog to keep up.

“What does it mean?” she asked.

“Does it have to mean it anything?”

“Of course it does,” Lauren retorted. “There’s always a double meaning when it comes to you.”

Snape shot her a narrow-eyed glare. “I don’t have time for all your incessant questions.” And with that he quickened his pace and was soon out of sight as he rounded a corner.

Lauren came to a standstill, her chest heaving at the physical exertion of having to jog. She still had three hours to kill before the rest of her classmates showed up.

_What to do? _ _Maybe a quick jaunt to the library _ _to find out the meaning of that flower will_ _ help pass the time._

Luckily Madam Pince was nowhere to be seen and Lauren sneaked into the Herbology section. Soon she was flipping through a few books that had looked promising and stilled when she happened upon the flower she was searching for. All the air left her lungs and she slumped back in her chair as the words practically screamed their meaning.

_Asphodel. My regrets follow you to the grave..._

That was a poignant meaning if ever she heard one. There was one major regret that Snape harboured, and to whom its grave it followed: Lily.

A monstrous, churlish emotion erupted within her chest like a volcano, and Lauren snapped the book shut sharply. Shesat there, stunned by her reaction. If she didn’t know any better, she would almost say it was jealousy.

_That’s ridiculous. I’m not jealous. I have absolutely no reason to be jealous. No. None whatsoever._

Shaking her head, she rose from the table and, after placing the books back into their proper places, she made her way down to the Slytherin Common Room.

A sly voice sounded in the back of her head. _If I have no reason to be jealous, then__ why do I feel like this __way__?_

Lauren decided not to dwell on it and ignore it completely. Looking too deeply into things would result in finding answers she was not yet ready to face. Answers she didn’t want to face.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren donned her school uniform and promptly made her way down to the Great Hall, slipping unnoticed into the crowd of students as they filed in, chatting and laughing excitedly among themselves.

She spied Tracey and elbowed her way towards her friend, ignoring the few scowls and annoyed mutteringsthat followed in her wake.

Tracey startled when Lauren looped her arm through hers. “Lauren! I didn’t see you on the train, and I thought...” Tracey trailed off and her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh.” She leaned in and whispered, “Did Dumbledore bring you to school himself?”

“Actually, it was Snape who had the honour,” Lauren replied in an aside whisper. They had now entered the Great Hall and were making their way to the Slytherin table.

“Really?” Tracey sounded shocked by this revelation. “That’s...unusual.”

Lauren shrugged. “I guess Dumbledore was too busy. But I prefer Snape’s company to his, so I didn’t mind in the least.”

Tracey eyed Lauren disbelievingly, but before she could grill Lauren further, she halted in her tracks and clutched Lauren’s arm. “Look!” she exclaimed shrilly, an unnerving light glinting feverishly within her blue eyes.

Lauren glanced around, wondering what had suddenly possessed her friend. Tracey usually didn’t act fanatical and was level-headed most of the time. “And what exactly am I supposed to be looking at?”

Tracey leaned in and hissed, “Look at the staff table. It’s Lockhart!” Tracey was barely able to contain herself from jumping up and down in her excitement. “I wonder what he’s doing here?”

Lauren’s gaze travelled towards the staff table and, sure enough, there was Lockhart locked in an animated conversation with Professor Sprout. Well, he was doing all the talking, otherwise known as far-fetched boasting, and every few seconds he would flash a brilliantly bright smile and smooth his perfectly golden locks. Sprout, for her part, looked as though she wanted nothing more than to escape, though she was polite enough to nod and give him a tight smile every now and then.

_I do not pity her._

Her gaze was drawn to the seat where Snape usually sat for meals, noting thatit was suspiciouslyvacant.

_Now where did he go to?_

It took her a few seconds to realize that, at this very moment, he was looking for Harry and Ron, who had by now missed the train and crashed the car into the Whomping Willow.

“Any ideas?”

Lauren blinked out of her thoughts and stared at Tracey blankly. “Hmm. What?”

Tracey huffed. “Do you have any idea why Lockhart’s here? Please tell me he’s here to stay.”

“No idea, but I have a feeling we’re going to find out soon enough,” Lauren grumbled as she practically dragged her friend to their seats.

A few moments later Draco plonked down next to Lauren, almost as though this was a normal occurrence for him to sit next to her.

“Ward. Davis,” he greeted.

Tracey was toobusy drooling over Lockhart to take much notice ofDraco, let alone anyone else in the room.

“Hello, Draco,” Lauren greeted back.

Draco leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “I’ve heard that the buffoon is going to be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Tracey’s head whipped around at this news, her mouth forming a little ‘o’ of surprise.

“Yeah, I heard,” Lauren muttered sourly. “Think we can maybe slip some blue and hopefully permanent hair dye into his shampoo?”

Draco sniggered and Tracey shot Lauren a disapproving look that would have made Hermione Granger proud.

“Don’t you even think about it!” she exclaimed.

“Oh come on, Tracey. He’s an idiot,” Lauren shot back. “I don’t know what the hell Dumbledore was thinking by hiring him.”

“He’s not an idiot!” Tracey looked crazy scary at this very moment, her chest heaving and her eyes glinting dangerously.

Lauren and Draco shared a look; a look that clearly stated:_ Uh oh. Best to tread carefully._

Lauren turned her attention back to Tracey and said in a placating tone, “Okay. I’m sorry. He’s not an idiot.”

Tracey harrumphed, but she calmed somewhat and turned her attention back to ogle the new DADA teacher.

Lauren turned to Draco and whispered conspiratorially to him, low enough that Tracey couldn’t overhear, “He’s totally an idiot.”

Draco grinned widely, but before he could add a comment of his own, Dumbledore rose from his chair. The Great Hall immediately silenced and soon a speech was made, welcoming back all students. Soon the newest batch of first-years were sorted, each house welcoming ten new students each. Then came the announcement that Lockhart was to be their newest DADA Professor. This news was met with a chorus of excited and high-pitch squeals from very many female students, each wearing a love-stuck look upon their faces, and Tracey sickeningly being one of them.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together once and each House table magically became weighed down with overflowing dishes of mouthwatering food. Afterwards, with bellies achingly full, the students made their way back to their dormitories to get ready for bed.

But as Lauren lay in bed, the meaning of the password ran through her head over and over again like and endless loop, causing a tight knot to form in her chest.

She glanced at her bedside clock and noted that it was a little after midnight. The soft snores of her fellow dorm mates echoed through the room; usually a comforting background noise that she had grown accustomed to, but right now it only served to make her agitated.

Knowing that sleep would elude her, Lauren flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, slipping on her slippers and shrugging her bathrobe on over her pajamas.

She quietly padded to the Common Room, relieved to find it empty, and made her way to the secret portrait. Muttering the password, the painting swung open and Lauren stepped in, casting the Lumos spell to illuminate her way.

Lauren hesitated when she reached the other end, part of her doubtful that it was a good idea to visit Snape right now. He had been in a rather short mood all day, and after dealing with Harry and Ron it was sure to be a whole lot worse. But the unreasonable part of her yearned to see him.

Lauren stepped out through the portrait and was greeted by a very surly looking Severus Snape, who was seated at his desk and was scowling darkly into his glass of Firewhiskey. Artemis, she noted, was perched upon the top of the book case, his beak tucked securely beneath his wing while he slept.

Without waiting for permission, she seated herself upon the chair opposite Snape’s desk. “School hasn’t even begun and you’re already drinking,” she mused. “I would have thought that it would have taken at least a week before you resorted to using alcohol to deal with the stress.”

Snape raised his dark gaze and Lauren’s breath caught in her throat, that achingly fluttery feeling constricting her insides.

“Potter and Weasley...I swear they were planted on this earth to cause me the most amount of aggravation as possible.” Snape paused, taking a sip from his glass before exclaiming, “They flew a car here and crashed it into the Whomping Willow!”

Lauren grinned at the memory of that scene. “Yeah, that was hilarious. Quite a funny story behind that actually.”

Snape shot her a dark scowl that stated that he clearly did not find it funny at all.

“Or not,” Lauren amended, clearing her throat.

Snape breathed out an exasperated sigh and then levelled her with a stern look. “A bit of warning would have been nice.”

“I’m not allowed to reveal future events. Remember?”

Snape grumbled something inarticulate and downed the amber liquid in his glass in one gulp. He then placed his glass down on the desk with a hard _thunk._ “_Now_ you choose to abide by the rules,” he muttered sarcastically.

Lauren simply smiled at him, then an appealing idea slithered into her consciousness, planting itself and taking root there. “Speaking of future events...”

Snape eyed her with guarded suspicion gleaming in those fathomless dark eyes, his posture taut with alertness.

Lauren leaned forward. “What do you think of Lockhart?”

Snape’s features twisted in a grimace, almost as though he had swallowed something vile. “Do. Not. Speak. Of. That. Idiot!” he warned, his words carefully and slowly enunciated so that she could not mistake his meaning.

“Oh good,” she exclaimed, instantly perking up. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who thinks he’s a moron.”

Snape blinked back at her, momentary surprise flashing across his features.

Lauren leaned back in her chair, a frown furrowing her brows at his reaction. “Wait...Did you think I was infatuated with him like everyone else?”

“It wouldn’t have surprised me.” This was said in an almost derisive tone, an undercurrent of another emotion tinting his words.

Lauren scoffed. “Oh please. At least give me some credit.”

“I am trying but your track record makes it hard to do otherwise,” he drawled back dryly.

Lauren folded her arms over her chest, a glare of her own pinching her features. Snape simply arched a supercilious brow and Lauren decided it was easier to ignore his jibes than give him the satisfaction of reacting to him.“Anyway, I want to offer you a proposition.”

Snape was instantly on alert and he eyed her silently, waiting for her to continue.

Lauren leaned forward and clasped her hands in front of her as she rested her elbows on her knees. “There’s going to come a time when Lockhart is going to want to form a Duelling Club with you. I want you to agree.”

“What?!” Snape snarled, the vein in his temple throbbing as he scowled back at her, his hands tightly clutching the armrest of his chair and his knuckles almost turning white.

“No. Hear me out. That dunce is not a dueller – you and I know this. I want you to set it up so that he and I will demonstrate some duelling methods together.”

“And that will accomplish what exactly.”

“Oh nothing much. I just want to try out a particular spell I discovered on him. It sounds quite promising. Plus, it will offer the perfect opportunity to humiliate him.”

Snape eyed her with a hint of sly approval glinting in his eyes. “May I inquire as to what spell that is?”

“Nope,” Lauren replied, popping the ‘p’. “It’s a surprise.”

Snape regarded her, his posture still and statue-like. Then a smile slowly crept upon his face and he stated, his words slithering through the still night air. “I think something can be arranged...”

“I thought you would be agreeable.”

Snape’s brows furrowed slightly as he stared at his now empty glass, his mind formulating a plan of action. The moments ticked by and as Lauren studied at him, her thoughts drifted back to that blasted password. But she found she did not have the courage to bring it up. Before her sat a man heavily scarred by the past, and she really didn’t want to dredge up all those painful memories to the surface and ruin their current mood.

Severus’ gaze suddenly snapped up to hers and Lauren instantly slammed her Occlumency shields in place, hoping he hadn’t caught a hint of what she had just been thinking.

“You’re getting better at Occluding” he commented after a contemplative pause.

“I have an excellent teacher.”

“Nevertheless, it still needs some work,” he remarked.

“So does that mean we’ll continue practising throughout the year?” She couldn’t mask the excitement that had crept into her voice.

“Of course.”

“Just...don’t use detention as a ruse for the upcoming year. I’m getting a reputation because of you.”

“You had a reputation long before that, Miss Ward. You needed no help from me for that.”

Lauren couldn’t argue withhim on that point because he was absolutely, one hundred percent correct.

“It’s getting late,” Snape suddenly stated. “You should head back to bed and get some sleep. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

Lauren rose and stretched, relaxing as she commented. “Correction. It’s going to be one hell of a busy year.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at the unveiled hint, and he gave a slight nod of his head in understanding.He did not press her for further answers, though she did detect the temptation to do so lingering upon his features.

“Good night, Professor Snape,” she murmured before climbing through the portrait hole. As she was closing the portrait shut behind her, she thought she heard his softly spoken words of good night in return, and it brought a soft smile to her face and caused a warm, fluttery feeling to envelope her; a reaction she had no explanation for.


	25. Chapter 25

The next morning found the Great Hall bustling with excitable students as they eagerly tucked into their breakfast, the mountain of dishes consisting of eggs, toast, sausages, bacon, cereal and porridge weighing down the table. Today the enchanted ceiling reflected a dull, overcast sky outside, the grey clouds giving off a distinctive start-of-school-yeargloom.

Lauren eagerly tucked into her plate of eggs, toast and sausages with gusto, her appetite seeming to having to increased exponentially over the summer. It was times like these that she marvelled at how much food and calories her growing twelve-soon-to-be-thirteen-year-old body needed.

Draco had chosen to sit himself on the opposite side of Lauren, and she was starting to wonder about his increasing avoidance of Crabbe and Goyle. Usually he was flanked by those two buffoons wherever he went.

Tracey, on the other hand, was acting rather odd; stiffly fidgety and barely touching her breakfast. Lauren watched as she straightened her cutlery for the umpteenth time before dropping her hands into her lap and wringing them together, her pinched expression darting towards the staff table every few seconds.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Lauren finally snapped, having enough of watching her friend’s display of what could only be described as OCD, which was getting right on her nerves.

Tracey startled and glanced over briefly at Lauren before turning her attention back to the staff table. Lauren followed her line of sight and was surprised to see that instead of ogling the prancing peacock, otherwise known as Lockhart, Tracey’s gaze was instead trained on Snape. She mumbled something incoherent under her breath, and Lauren leaned in trying to hear what she was saying.

“What?”

“I said,” Tracey snapped irritably, turning her head and locking eyes with Lauren, “that I’m waiting for our timetables. Professor Snape should be handing them out to us after breakfast.”

“Ah, I see,” Lauren mused, really not understanding in the least. “And...why are you waiting for our new timetable?”

A deep flush burnished Tracey’s pale cheeks, and the pieces finally clicked in place in Lauren’s head.

“You want to see when our next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson is and when next you’ll get to see Lockhart. I should have known,” she remarked, not bothering to hide her obvious disgust.

_B_ _loody teenagers and their _ _hormones_ _!_

A defiant look graced Tracey’s flushed features. “So what if I am?” she retorted.

Lauren scowled back at her friend and was about to make a scathing remark, but was interrupted (or saved) by the rushing sound of a hundred owls streaming into the Great Hall, blocking the sight of the enchanted ceiling above their heads as they circled around the room and then swooped down, depositing their various letters and packages.

A few moments later the shrill, booming voice of Molly Weasley thundered throughout the Great Hall, startling everyone and making the walls practically shake as she scolded Ron about the whole stunt with the flying car. The entire Hall stilled as the studentslistened with rapt attention at the unfolding scene that was playing out before them. Most of the Slytherins snickered at the sight of Ron turning a spectacular shade of beetroot red as he scooted lower into his seat.

A hallow ringing silence followed afterwards and then the letter burst into flames, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes as evidence of what had just transpired.

“That was a Howler,” Tracey explained when she glimpsed Lauren’s dumbfounded expression.

“I see,” Lauren intoned, still stunned by just how jarringly loud a Howler really was. The books and movies hadn’t done it any justice, really. Mrs Weasley’s shrill voice was still ringing in Lauren’s head, and she suspected Ron was suffering some hearing loss as a result.

Movement at the staff table instantly diverted Tracey’s attention, and she watched with an almost unnerving predatory anticipation as Snape strode towards the Slytherin table, his black robe flapping sharply at his heels.He started with the seventh years first, gradually making his way down the long table as he handed out their timetables.

As he neared Lauren’s section of the table, his sharp gaze momentarily flickered up to meethers, their gazes locking. In that brief instant Lauren’s very breath was stolen from her lungs, the world around her fading away and leaving just the two of them existing in this hazy bubble.

Then the spell was broken as Snape handed Lauren her timetable and promptly turned his attention to the next student.

It took a few moments for her mind to clear of the confusing fog.

_What...what is going on with me? __This is not normal__, _she mused, trying desperately to ignore the way her heart rate had sped up at the sight of him.

Unable to take her eyes off of him, she watched as Snape descended upon the newest batch of first years, fear and apprehension evident upon their features as they faced the scrutiny of the formidable Potion Master.

A sharp jab to her ribs instantly brought Lauren back to reality.

“What?” Lauren snapped, clutching at her aching ribs, which Tracey had clearly elbowed.

“Look!” Tracey enthused, jabbing a finger at a spot on her timetable. “Our second lesson for the day is DADA!” she squealed. “I can’t wait to see what Lockhart has planned for us.”

Lauren scanned the timetable and saw that Tracey was, indeed, correct, and a scowl of annoyance furrowed her brows at the thought of having to start off the first section of the school day with that moron. But as she perused the rest of her timetable, her frown was replaced with that of confusion. She glanced over at Tracey’s timetable and noted that hers was not quite the same.

Snape was now heading back up the aisle, andhe must have noted herperplexed expression, or maybe he had anticipated it, for he made his way towards her.

“Something confusing you, Miss Ward?” he drawled as he loomed over her. Lauren shifted in her seat, craning her neck to look up at him, desperately trying to focus as the scent that was distinctly Snape overwhelmed her senses in intoxicating waves.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, feeling quite proud of the fact that not only had she managed to formulate an answer, but she had somehow managed to keep her voice even. “I think my timetable is wrong.”

“Oh?” he intoned, arching a supercilious brow.

Lauren swallowed as his dark, penetrating gaze bore into her, causing her insides squirm and flutter under his scrutiny. “Yes. It says here that I have extra Potion lessons on Wednesday and Friday evenings. That can’t be right.”

Snape’s obsidian gaze flickered down to the timetable clutched in her hand, and slowly he raised his eyes to meet hers.

“There is no mistake, Miss Ward.”

Lauren blinked back at him in confusion, distantly aware that the entire Slytherin table had fallen silent as they watched the exchange between Professor and student.

“You will be receiving IntroductoryAdvanced Potions lesson during those time slots.”

“What?!” Draco exclaimed, shattering the silence. There was a hushed murmur of whispering among the Slytherins as they processed this rather astounding news. “IntroductoryAdvanced Potions lessons? But...those extra lessonsare only offered to really advanced students.”

“Yes, Draco,” Snape drawled, though it lacked his usual derisive snarkiness as he addressed his godson. “And Miss Ward has proven her exceptional prowess in the field of Potion brewing – her exam results are proof enough of her capabilities.”

Draco’s brows furrowed as he processed this news, and Lauren half expected him to become sullen with jealous animosity. Instead, she was stunned to glimpse a hint of admiration and awe shadowing his features.

“That’s impressive, Ward. Not very many get accepted for such lessons with Professor Snape.”

Lauren would have felt honoured, but then a thought occurred to her. This was all a ruse. Snape was honouring her request and was no longer resorting to using detention as an excuseto conduct their private lessons, and had instead found another more plausible way for them to continue with them without arousing suspicions.

A shadow of a smile curled his lips when Snape noted her putting two and two together. “The lessons have been scheduled for five until seven in the evening, Miss Ward. Do not be late, otherwise you will be suffering detention on top of your extra lessons.”

With that he turned sharply and departed in a billow of black.

“Wow,” Tracey gawped. “Advanced Potions lessons! That’s impressive, Lauren.”

“Yes, it is,” Draco mused. “My godfather usually doesn’t offer those extra lessons, at least not in recent history. And most certainly not to first, second, thirdand fourth years.”

“Really?” Tracey inquired, her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah. I know he is planning to give me those extra lessons himself, but only in my fifth year. You must have really impressed him, Ward.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Lauren mumbled, folding up her timetable into a crisp, neat square before tucking it securely into her robe pocket. Her mind, however, was reeling with giddy and explainable excitement at the prospect spending extra time with Snape.

_I practically spent the entire Summer with him. I should be __trying__ to get away from him for a while – not the opposite. __Something is seriously wrong with me__, _Lauren mused to herself as she and her classmates made their way to their first lesson of the day, which happened to be Transfiguration, and would then be followed by the less than thrilling DADA lesson next. Lauren just prayed that Lockhart didn’t plan to unleash those pixies upon them, and would rather choose to reserve them for the Gryffindors instead.

_Let them take one for the team._

Transfiguration went reasonably well, with Lauren, Tracey and Draco being the only ones who had successfully managed to transfigure their beetles into perfect black buttons. It didn’t escape Lauren’s attention, though, that Draco had chosen to seat himself close to her and Tracey, and part of her suspected that this was going to be an usual occurrence from now on.

Then came their DADA lesson. As the Slytherins filed into Lockhart's classroom, they were bombarded with a vast array of portraits of the prancing peacock beaming down at them with dazzling white smiles and perfectly coiffed hair.Lauren was instantly tempted to incinerate each and every one of them.

Once they were seated, Lockhart strutted towards the front of the classroom, the entire room falling silent as the students waited for their lesson to begin. A dreamy sigh to her left foretold that Tracey was once again drooling over the dunce, and the hushed up giggles sounding from Pansy and her gang at the back of the classroom gave away the fact that the other girls weren’t unaffected either.

_Am I the only sane one here?_

Lauren rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Lockhart, who was now stationed in front of his desk and giving them all what he thought was a winning smile.

“Good morning everyone. As you can see, I am your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,” he stated, extending his arms widein grand and dramatic show of introduction. “And how lucky you are to have someone like me who is so well versed in the subject teaching you,” he went on, his chest puffing out. “Me, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of _Witch Weekly’s _Most-Charming-Smile Award.” Lockhart paused, his eyes twinkling boyishly as his grin ratcheted up to a mega-watt level.

Lauren let out a loud, drawn out yawn that punctuated the very air around them. Thisstunt earned a sharp,reproachful glare from Tracey, and Lauren could practically feel Draco’s wide grin from his perch behind her.

Lockhart faltered, his smile slipping fractionally before he recovered and barrelled on with his usual aplomb, plasteringthat annoyingly bright smile back onto his face. Lauren had to wonder how his cheeks didn’t ache from all that incessant grinning.

“But I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smilingat her!” he chuckled. “No, I am here to teach you much more valuable skills – though possessing a disarming smile wouldn’t hurt either!”

Lockhart paused as he awaited the sounds of laughter at his lame joke. Tracey and Pansy were the only ones who gave weak chuckles; the rest of the students remained awkwardly silent.His gaze flickered towards Lauren and she levelled him her best imitation of being unimpressed before turning her attention to her nails, which she suddenly found more interesting.

“Anyway!” he exclaimed, snatching up some sheets of paper off his desk, “Let’s start off with a quick quiz, shall we? See how well you really know your new Professor.” He then proceeded to hand out their quizzes. “You have thirty minutes to complete it, and afterwards we shall go through the answers,” he instructed, flashing them another blinding-white smile.

Tracey was already scribbling down her answers, her nose almost touching the parchment as she concentrated. Lauren turned her attention to the questions before her, and it was with great effort that she managed to withhold her snort of disgust. There were fifty-four questions in all, and every single one about the egotistical narcissist.

Lauren was about to tear the pages into tiny confetti-sized pieces, but then a wicked thought occurred to her and she picked up her quill and began writing.

Thirty minutes later, Lockhart rose from his chair and flamboyantly clapped his hands together.

“Times up. Let’s see the results, shall we?” he enthused, collecting their quizzes.

Lauren half-heartedly listened as he went through each quiz, correcting the various mistakes. Finally he came upon one whose handwriting was familiar and Lauren instantly perked up.

“Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite colour is flaming...imbecile?” Lockhart stuttered, a frown pulling down at his perfectly groomed brows.

A choked cough that sounded distinctly like a covered-up laugh sounded behind her. Lauren glanced over her shoulder at Draco and gave him a cheeky wink before turning her attention back to Lockhart.

“That can’t be right,” he muttered absently, but continued on nonetheless. “Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition is to grow feathers and become the prancing peacock he emulates...” Lockhart paused, clearly confused that someonewas clearly insulting him.

Deciding to move onto the next question, he muttered out aloud, “...ideal gift...Laxative Potion to rid Gilderoy Lockhart of all his...” Lockhart instantly snapped his mouth shut, clearly flustered as he glanced up with a look of utter bewilderment plastered upon his face.

“Aren’t you going to read out the rest of my answers, Professor?” Lauren spoke up, her voice coated in a sickly sweet honeyed tone.

Lockhart glanced down at the parchment still clutched in his hand and then back at her. “This was you?”

“Yes.”

Lockhart blinked, clearly at a loss of what to do. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I, um, don’t think that would be a good idea, Miss...?”

“Ward. Lauren Ward,” she supplied innocently.

Lockhart stared at her for a few moments before he came to his senses. He straightened up and plastered on an obviously fake smile. “Well, I think that is all for today. Class dismissed!”

As the class filed out, Tracey grabbed Lauren by the elbow and steered her into a deserted corridor. “What were you thinking disrespecting a Professor like that, Lauren?!” she demanded.

“Oh please. He’ll find a way to twist it in his mind so that in the end he thinks I only wrote flattering things about him. Classic signs of a narcissist.”

“He is not a narcissist.”

“Tracey, open your damn eyes. You’re so blinded with your infatuation with him that you can’t see the truth, which is staring you right in the face. He is so full of hot air I’m surprised he hasn’t lifted off into the sunset already.”

Tracey’s chest puffed out and her eyes slanted into slits as she prepared to explode at Lauren.

“Are you two going to stand here bickering all day about some stupid teacher, or are we going to get some lunch?” Draco interrupted in his usual drawl.

Both Lauren and Tracey spun around to see the blonde aristocrat leaning against the wall, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he observed them with a wicked smile plastered on his face.

Tracey glanced at Lauren and then back at Draco. “He’s not some stupid teacher.”

“Yeah, he is.” Draco was clearly unimpressed by her show of temper.

Tracey eyed Draco, momentarily disarmed in her anger. “Why are you waiting for us? What about your friends Crabbe and Goyle?”

Draco pushed away from the wall and gave a casual shrug. “I’m more interested in hearing the rest of Ward’s answers than listening to their stupid ramblings.”

Lauren peered keenly at Draco, wondering not for the first time what was happening to cause Draco to prefer their company over those two buffoons.

“I refuse to listen to thetwo of you disparaging our Professor,” Tracey stated, looking pointedly at both Lauren and Draco.

“Then don’t listen,” Draco remarked.

Tracey huffed in response, crossing her arms over her chest.

Draco’s sly grin grew wider. “Oh stop being so uptight, Davis. Maybe you can write him a love poem or something to make him feel better.”

A furious red blush blazed upon Tracey’s cheeks.

Lauren smirked at her friend’s discomfiture. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. He’d love that.”

“You think?” Tracey asked, glancing up with hope shimmering in those baby blues.

“No,” Lauren stated flatly. “Tracey, if you dare try to write him a poem, I’ll enchant your quill so that it will onlyscribble down rude things to him,” Lauren warned as she looped her arm through her friend’s.

“You don’t know such a charm,” Tracey countered.

“You wanna risk that chance?” Lauren taunted, a playful tone creeping into her voice.

Tracey muttered darkly. “You’re prats. The both of you!”

Draco chuckled and nudged Tracey’s shoulder with his own as he came to stand on the other side of her. “It’s our job to be prats. That way we can stop you from making a fool of yourself.”

Tracey eyed Draco, but realizing she was outnumbered on this, wagged a warning finger in Lauren’s face. “Behave yourself around Lockhart, Lauren. I’m warning you.”

“You’re asking a lot Tracey. If you want that to happen, then I’ll have to avoid him altogether.”

“Ah come on, Davis. You’re going to ruin the entertainment for the rest of us,” Draco supplied, mirth dancing in those ice blue eyes.

Tracey shook her head, clearly unimpressed with them, and muttered darkly, “You two are so much alike it’s not even funny.”

“I take offence to that!” Lauren protested.

“Hey,” Draco retorted at the same time. “We are nothing alike.”

Tracey shot them both a smug smirk before turning on her heel and leaving to head to lunch. Lauren and Draco stared at each.

“We’re nothing alike,” Lauren grumbled.

“I second that,” Draco affirmed, scrunching up his face.

They shared another look and then decided to follow Tracey to the Great Hall for lunch.

“So what else did you say in that quiz?” Draco whispered conspiratorially, making sure to keep his voice low so that Tracey, who was walking a few feet in front of them, wouldn’t overhear.

Lauren flashed him a grin and started retelling some of the answers she could remember. By the time they had reached the Great Hall, Draco was chuckling with unrestrained amusement.

As they seated themselves at the Slytherin table,Draco leaned in and stated in a low voice, “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I’ve been made Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team.”

Lauren paused, her fork of mashed potatoes half-way to her mouth. “Seeker?”

Draco nodded, taking a bite from his roast beef sandwich.

Lauren placed her fork back down in her plate, her meal of bangers and mash momentarily forgotten. “And this has nothing to do with trying to be better than Potter?”

The change in his features was instantaneous, almost as though a dark storm cloud had descendedat the mention of Potter. It was confirmation enough for Lauren.

“You don’t have to try and prove to everyone that you’re better than him, Draco. You’re already better in the eyes of those that matter,” Lauren pointed out, trying to keep the pity out of her voice. Draco would forever be in Potter’s shadow, and he was trying so hard to prove himself.

Draco scowled at her. “I’m not trying to prove anything, except that Potter is nothing special.”

“If you think he’s nothing special, then why are you trying so hard?”

“Because everyone seems to think that he is!”

Lauren shook her head. “I don’t think that, Draco.”

Glimpsing the pity writ on her features, Draco’s features flushed in an angry red hue. “Your opinion doesn’t matter!” With that he threw his sandwich back onto his plate and stormed away.

“Well, that went well,” Tracey mused, offering absolutely little to no sympathy. She was still pissed at Lauren for what she had done to Lockhart, this much was evident.

A sigh escaped her lips. _Guess I’m in the doghouse with everyone today. _Lauren glanced down at her timetable, noting that she had her extra lesson with Snape this evening. _Hopefully S__everus__ will be more reasonable than these two __hormonal __teenagers__._ Lauren gave a derisive snort at that thought._ Not bloody likely._

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Five o’clock found Lauren outside the closed Potions classroom door. She rested her forehead against the cool wood, closing her eyes momentarily as her thoughts drifted to the shitty first day of school. She had managed to piss off both Tracey and Draco; the former still acting bristly towards her, and the latter choosing to start a fight with Harry in retaliation. Lauren suspected that Draco was lashing out because of their little spat, and Potter had proven to be the perfect target.

Lauren straightened up. Draco was another problem for another day, though part of her was still troubled that they had squabbled. Why, she could not explain. It wasn’t as though she and Draco were particularly close friends, really. But still, it bugged her.

Realizing that she would be late if she lingered, and inadvertently earn herself her very first detention of the year, Lauren raised her hand and gave a firm knock on the hard, unyielding wood of the door.

“Enter, Miss Ward,” came Snape’s deep baritone from the other side.

Lauren pushed open the door to see Snape seated behind his desk, marking vials of potions lined up in neat rows upon his desk. A sense of pride swelled within her when she noted that he was still using the quill that she had gifted him last Christmas.

Finishing up his marking, Snape placed his quill down and folded his hands in front of him as she approached his desk, his dark, scrutinizing gaze following her progression.

“I would seem that you have had quite a busy day, Miss Ward,” he remarked casually.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

A slow smile curled his lips, his eyes gleaming. “So you’re telling me that I just imagined a rather irate Professor Lockhart brandishing your quiz answers under my nose earlier on?”

Lauren bit her lower lip, more to stop herself from bursting out laughing than anything else.

“He showed you?”

Snape’s smile stretched into a sardonic smirk. “He did. Suffice to say, I took great pleasure in reading the remarks you made. I found that, for the first time, I was quite proud of your...insufferable wit, Miss Ward.”

Lauren swelled at the veiled compliment. “What did you tell him?”

“Simply that I could not punish a student for telling the truth.”

Lauren chuckled out loud. “I wish I could have been there to see his expression when you told him that!”

Snape looked extremely smug, though chose not to comment. But his expression said it all - he had found it highly entertaining, being the sadistic bastard that he was.

Lauren hefted her schoolbag more securely upon her shoulder. “Nice touch giving me Introductory Advanced Potion lessons as a ruse, by the way.”

“It was believable enough that you, as my top student, would receive this special tutelage. You will find that not many will question it.”

Lauren nodded and glanced around the familiar classroom, now holding a certain appreciation for the decor of pickled specimens, jars of potions, and the stores of potion ingredients lining the various shelves. Each one had an important use, and each were invaluable ingredients for potions. Only one who possessed a true love for the art of potion brewing could appreciate them to the fullest.

Her thoughts drifted to Lockhart and she turned her attention back to Snape. “Out of curiosity, is there a potion to suppress annoying teenage hormones?” she asked.

Snape raised a questioning brow, clearly caught off guard by her question, though to an outsider it would be hard to tell. The rest of his features remained expressionless, only his eyes reflecting his true thoughts, and even then it was near impossible to really tell what he was thinking.

Lauren let out a disgruntled huff. “Tracey is driving me absolutely barmy with her crush over Lockhart. Surely there must be something to, I dunno, suppress it or get rid of it altogether?”

Snape leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him as he regarded her. “Believe me, Miss Ward, if there was such a potion in creation, I would have doused all of the dunderheads within the walls of this castle by now.”

“Good point,” Lauren mused. “So are we going to be brewing potions today?”

“No. I have something else in mind. Follow me,” Snape instructed as he rose in a smooth motion from his chair.

Snape made his way to the door that led to his private office, and Lauren followed closely behind, anticipation bubbling within her as she wondered what Snape had in mind for today’s lesson.

But instead of seating himself behind his desk as she had expected to do, he bypassed it and headed straight to the door on the other side of the room. Lauren’s heart started thudding in her chest when she realized that she was now going to enter Snape’s personal domain and maybeglean a bit of insight into his personal life. Snape was a fiercely private person and would not appreciate anyone encroaching upon his privacy, so the fact that he was allowing her entrance spoke volumes.

Lauren faltered, her steps slowing to a halt.

With his long-fingered hand curled around the door handle, Snape paused, sensing her hesitation, and glanced over his shoulder at her.

“Something troubling you, Miss Ward?” he intoned.

“No. Nothing. Just realized that I am about to enter your personal living quarters...” Lauren trailed off, distinctly aware that she was starting to babble.

“And?”

Lauren sighed and ran her fingers through her mass of waves. “It just feels like I’m...intruding.”

Snape levelled her with a stern look. “I have invited you inside, therefore it is not an intrusion. I would have thought that with your particular lack of social etiquette, encroaching upon someone’s territory would be the least of your concerns.”

Lauren’s chin shot up ans she glared back at him. Snape raised a brow, silently challenging her to contradict him.

“Fine. Lead the way,” she stated, motioning with her hand for him to continue onward.

Snape smirked at her, almost as though he had won a small victory. He opened the door and motioned for her to precede him. Snape, for all his abrupt churlishness, certainly retained a certain amount of chivalry.

Lauren steeled herself and entered the room, her steps slowing as she took in her surroundings. It certainly wasn’t what she had expected.

Admittedly, Lauren had been preparing to walk into a cold dungeon-like setting, chains and whips included. Well, something along those lines. Definitely not this.

A crackling fire was burning invitingly within the hearth and, as her gaze wandered, Lauren spied pieces of ornaments upon the mantle that were distinctively curious and interesting. Lauren suspected that not only were they appeasing to the eye, but were also practical and useful. She itched to take a closer look but knew Snape would not appreciate her nosing around.

A comfy looking armchair of a moss green hue, complete with a matching ottoman, was placed strategically in front of the fireplace, along with a plush loveseat off to the side. Lauren sensed that the armchair had offered hours of comfortable leisure while Snape sat with a book in his lap, passing the evening hours in relaxed silence and letting the trying day that had just passed ebb away.

Nestled between the armchair and loveseat was a small oval shaped side table, upon which rested a book, a bookmark poking out from the depths of the numerous pages.

The entire wall to their left had been converted into a bookshelf, the well-worn covers foretelling that these books had been perused numerous times over, and were well-loved and cherished. Snape was a man who valued knowledge, and his book collection was but a minuscule insight into the man behind the dark and unreadable mask.

Lauren noted an empty slot where a book had once resided, and she realized that the book Snape had gifted her had once belonged here amongst his many treasured tomes. The fact that he had given her something so personal and cherished stole her very breath.

A thick and plush area rug carpeted the cold stone floor in silver and forest green, and the low burning lamps added to the warm glow of the fire,giving the room a homely feel. Something she would never have associated with Snape.

_It’s nothing like Spinners End. Maybe this is the only place he can be truly comfortable..._

Lauren noted two doors to their right, and she could only guess that one of them led to Snape’s bedroom.

Severus strode past her, ignoring her open-mouthed gaping, and headed towards the third door positionedon the other side of the room.

“You look at a loss for words, Miss Ward. Were you, perhaps, expecting something else?” Snape drawled snidely, shooting her a knowing look, almost as though he had read her mind. Or maybe her stumped expression gave her away.

“Kinda. Yeah,” Lauren admitted, snapping out of her stupor.

“I am well aware of my reputation and how others view me, as well as what they expect of me, Miss Ward,” Snape stated as he opened the door and waited for her to walk in. “Now cease your dawdling and follow me.”

Lauren cast one more lingering look at the interior of the room before following him down a spiralled stone stairway, finally coming out to a room that was of a respectable size, but completely empty and devoid of any furnishings, save for a few lanterns illuminating the interior.

“Well, this is...cozy,” Lauren mused aloud, shooting Snape a questioning look.

“This room usually serves as my personal laboratory, but I have cleared it for our lessons,” Snape explained as he brushed past her and walked further into the echoingly empty room, his hands clasped behind his back.

“And what are our lessons going to be?” Lauren asked.

Snape turned around and smirked down at her. “I do recall that you requested to duel against Lockhart. Even though he is a blundering idiot, I think practise is in order if you wish to go up against him.”

Lauren’s eyes widened at the implication of his words. “Really? We’re going to be practising duelling?” Her excitement immediately gave way to dread when past memories resurfaced. “Bugger. This is going to be as bad as it was over the summer holidays, isn’t it?” She still hadn’t forgotten the very many times she had woken up feeling as though she had had a run-in with a freight train, not to mention some of the more nasty hexes Snape had sent flying her way.

“If you have retained most of what I have taught you thus far, then maybe not,” he sneered back, his usual lack of sympathy not comforting in the least.

Lauren groaned, knowing full well that her fate was already sealed and it was no use fighting him on this, especially since she had asked for it in the first place. “Well, I hope you have loads of pain potion and healing balm on hand. I don’t want to have to try and explain how I got beat up when I was supposed to be doing Introductory Advanced Potion brewing.”

“I’ll heal you afterwards.”

“How kind of you,” Lauren retorted sarcastically.

His smirk broadened, and Lauren shook her head.

“Sadistic bastard,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice lowering in pitch and sounding perversely dangerous.

“Nothing,” Lauren quipped.

Snape eyed her with those dark, fathomless eyes that could unnerve or spellbind her, depending on his mood. Then coming to a decision he shrugged out of his outer robe and hung it upon a hook on the wall before returning back to position. He now stood before her in his many buttoned cloak, that extra layer of protective black now noticeably absent.

Lauren eyed his slim, lithe form and not for the first time she was reminded of a panther ready to pounce and strike its prey. And right now, she was very much his prey.

Lauren, deciding it was best to get on with it, placed her book bag to the side and shrugged out of her own robe, folding it neatly before laying it upon her bag.

She then took her position in front of him, withdrawing her wand from its sheath strapped to her forearm. Snape’s sharp gaze followed her every movement, and she thought she glimpsed a hint of approval in his dark eyes at the fact that she was putting his gift to good use.

“Ready?”

“Nope,” came her instant reply. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“No.” A cruel smile accompanied that simple clipped word as he levelled her with a penetrating look, causing Lauren’s stomach to flip over in a mixture of dread and something else that that she could not name.

“Try not to kill me,” she murmured as she took up the duelling stance, her wand pointed and ready.

“As tempting as that thought is, I have not fired any hex or spell at you that I didn’t think you could handle, Miss Ward. You need to trust that I will instruct you the best way I see fit and will not cause you lasting harm.”

Lauren eyed him, realizing that he spoke the truth. As difficult as it was to comprehend,Snape was an excellent teacher, even though his teaching methodsleft much to be desired. But he was instructive nonetheless, and she had to admit that she had learned a great deal from him. Snape did not baby her and, in turn, her reflexes and shielding had improved exponentially, not to mention that she was vastly improving in spell casting.

And, admittedly, he had not, in the past, ever fired a hex that had caused long lasting or excruciating pain. And she knew that he could have done so if he had really wanted to.

“I trust you,” she finally stated.

Something unreadable flashed within the depths of his obsidian eyes, but in a split second laterhis features were schooled back into an unreadable mask.

“Then let us begin.”

Two hours later Lauren sat slouched in a chair Snape had conjured for her, grimacing at the various aches that coursed through her body. The pain was bearable, the ache bordering on that of a strenuous exercise session.

“I regret asking you to teach me how to duel.”

“Maybe,” Snape remarked as he applied a healing salve to a bruise that was blossoming upon her cheek, “but you won’t regret it in years to come, Miss Ward.”

Lauren flinched as he turned his attention to a shallow cut upon her neck, his cool fingertips coating the salve upon it. Both were currently heavily Occluding and, as such, Lauren only sensed a slight tingling reaction to his touch. She had to hold her breath or otherwise become overwhelmed by his intoxicating scent, though.

Snape stepped back, twisting the lid back on the jar of salve as he eyed her critically. As his gaze landed on the bruise, some indiscernible emotion glinted in his eyes, and he turned his head away, almost as though in guilt.

“Drink this,” he instructed, withdrawing a vial of pain potion from the depths of his pocket before handing it to her.

Lauren drank it down in one gulp, feeling immediately better as the pain subsided into blissful oblivion. Sensing that their lesson was now at an end, she rose from her seat to collect her bag.

“Do not think I garner any enjoyment from causing you pain, Miss Ward,” his softly spoken words floated back to her, causing Lauren to stutter to a halt, thinking she had imagined those words.

She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the protective walls fall back in place, but not before she had glimpsed a certain vulnerability shining through his features for that split second. Then Snape snapped back into Dungeon Master mode and he gave her a curt nod of dismissal.

“Good night, Miss Ward. I trust you can see yourself out.”

Lauren closed her mouth, knowing the moment had passed, and she nodded in return. She turned to leave, but then thought, _what the hell._

“I know you don’t enjoy hurting me, Professor Snape. I...just wanted you to know that. I know that you are doing this to help me.”

Something unreadable flashed within his eyes and Lauren gave him a small, sad smile before exiting the room, leaving Snape behind and alone with his thoughts.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Thefollowing days flew by, the students soon settling into their new school routine. Lauren and Snape’s duelling lessons continued on as normal, both choosing to ignore that moment that had passed the initial lesson and pretend it never happened. Though there was no doubt that both of them remembered it clearly.

Lauren’s ‘thirteenth’ birthday arrived that following Saturday morning and, as she lay in bed staring up at the canopy of her bed, she couldn’t help but let her thoughts mull over her predicament.

_I should be __turning __thirty-two years old, not thirteen! __s_he thought grouchily as she punched her pillow into shape before snuggling back under the warm covers. _I’m a bloody teenager all over again._

It felt as though she had just closed her eyes when the covers were flung back forcibly.

“What the fu -.”

“Language, Lauren,” Tracey scolded before Lauren could finish her cussing.

Lauren glared at her before muttering, “Yes, mum.” Sherubbed tiredly at her face before asking, “Why are you waking me up so early? It’s Saturday.”

“Well it’s not my fault that your birthday fell on the weekend, Lauren” Tracey retorted, settling upon the bed beside her. She thrust out a small square box towards Lauren. “Happy Birthday!”

Lauren struggled up, accepting the gift from her friend’s outstretched hand. “What is it?”

“Open it and find out,” Tracey urged.

Glimpsing the concealed anticipation gleaming just behind the reserved facade her friend usually wore, Lauren found she could not deny her request and opened the box to reveal a thin silver bracelet with little charms dangling from it. Lauren smiled when she spied a witch’s hat and a cauldron among them.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” Lauren stated, and she meant every word of it. The fact that it wasn’t an expensive gift didn’t mean anything to her. It was the point that Tracey had thought about her, especially on her birthday, that meant the world to her, and a deep, profound sense of affection for the other girl enveloped Lauren.

They made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Draco noticeably absent, but it was still early and Lauren wasn’t too concerned, though she had grown used to Blondie now joining her and Tracey wherever possible.

Just as Lauren dished up a plate of bacon and cheese omelette, Artemis came swooping into the hall, gliding like black smoke towards the table before landing with elegance upon Lauren’s shoulder, rubbing his beak affectionately against her cheek in greeting.

“Hello, Artemis,” Lauren cooed, picking out some bacon from her omelette and giving it to him. Artemis gave a rough caw and gobbled up the offering greedily. “Come to wish me a happy birthday then, did you?”

The raven gave a croaking sound in the back of his throat before nuzzling her cheek again. She stroked the smooth silken feather along his head and back before Artemis decided he had had enough and took off again is a graceful flight of pitch black out through the open doors of the Great Hall.

“Was that your raven?” came a familiar drawl and Lauren glanced up to see Draco approaching the table, followed by the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team, alldecked out in their training gear and clutching brand new brooms in their hands.

“Yeah,” Lauren admitted.

“Cool,” he exclaimed as he plopped down next to her and snatched a slice of toast from her plate, reflectively avoiding the smack she aimed at his thieving hand.

“So you’ve joined the Quidditch team then?” Lauren remarked, hoping that he had at least considered her words the previous week.

“Obviously,” Tracey stated without glancing up from her book. “The Quidditch uniform and brooms are a dead give away, Lauren.”

“Har, har,” Lauren said with dripping sarcasm. “I realize that, Tracey. Thank you very much. What I want to know is why you chose to do so, Draco?”

Draco shrugged as he bit into his stolen buttered toast. “Why not.”

Lauren eyed him. “And it has nothing to do with trying to one-up Potter, does it?”

Draco swallowed his mouthful and levelled her with a look of his own. “Are you going to try and tell me that I’m being silly again?”

A few moments passed. From the corner of her eye Lauren could see Tracey peering at the two of them over the top of her book, waiting with bated breath as to what was going to happen next.

Lauren knew this could go either of two ways. She could, indeed, tell him he was being childish and have him angry at her again, which shouldn’t really bother her. But for some unfathomable reason, Lauren found that she didn’t really want to rock the boat with their newfound and unusual friendship.

She decided to go for option two.

“No, Draco. I’ve had my say and you know my opinion on the matter,” she stated as tactfully as she could, which was a feat in itself as Lauren lacked tact altogether. “So, instead, I am going to offer my support and encouragement, and wish you the best of luck.”

Draco took another bite of his toast and as he chewed his mouthful, he watched her with thoughtfulness gleaming in those ice-blue eyes. After he had swallowed his mouthful he gave her a cunning smile and asked, “Will you come and watch me play during the next Quidditch match?”

Lauren groaned. “Nope. Absolutely not. You know that I don’t particularly like Quidditch, Draco.”

“Yes,” he remarked slyly. “But as a friend it’s good to offer yoursupport.”

Lauren narrowed her eyes at the fact that he had just turned her words against her.

_Why that sneaky little son of a..._

An annoyed huff expelled from her lips. “Fine. Fine. You win. I’ll be there.”

His grin broadened, and Lauren realized in that moment that he really had wanted her to be there to show her support.

Draco wolfed down the rest of his toast before standing. “Later, Ward. Davis.”

He then followed the rest of the Slytherin team out through the open doors of the Great Hall, no doubt to head to the Quidditch pitch to practise, andwhere Lauren knew a fight would break out between him, Harry and Ron at the insult flung at Hermione – and Ron’s wand backfiring and causing him to spew up thick, slimy slugs as a result.

Lauren shook her head and paused when she saw Tracey eyeing her speculatively.

“What?”

A small, knowing smile graced Tracey’s lips. “It’s just weird that you and Draco hated each other in the beginning and now look at you two. You’re becoming quite chummy with him.”

“Am not,” Lauren replied churlishly. “If anything, it’s _him_ that is becoming chummy with _me_.”

That all-knowing smirk broadened on Tracey’s features. “Okay. If you say so.”

Lauren glared at her friend, which Tracey promptly ignored. After breakfast they decided to take a walk around the Black Lake, and Lauren had to go back to her dorm room to collect a suitable sweater for the air outside had turned crisp and overcast.

She entered her room and went straight to her closet to retrieve said sweater when her gaze landed on a small black square box resting upon her nightstand. Lauren frowned, for it hadn’t been there earlier this morning.

There was only one person she knew who would sneakily leave a gift lying around instead of giving it her personally.

She picked it up, the box feeling feather-light, and cautiously opened the lid. Inside lay a small orb shaped obsidian pendant, the gleaming black instantly reminding Lauren of a certain Potion Master’s dark, fathomless eyes.

Beneath the pendant lay a crisp folded white note and Lauren plucked it up to read it.

_Obsidian ~ a strongly protective stone. _

_Happy Birthday, Miss Ward. S._

Lauren glanced back at the small pendant, stunned that Severus Snape had not only remembered her birthday, but had also purchased her a gift. And by the looks of it, it would fit perfectly on her new charm bracelet.

Lauren clipped it on and admired the black standing out in stark contrast with the rest of the silver gleaming charms.

_How did he know that Tracey had given me a charm bracelet for my birthday?_

Lauren mulled it over for a few seconds, but realized it was useless trying to decipher Snape’s motives and secrets. All she aware of was that a lightness had now seeped through her body right down to her core, causing a wide smile to blossom upon her face and making her feel giddy and lightheaded with euphoria.

_Oh stop it, Lauren. Now you’re starting to act like Tracey..._

Lauren froze instantly at that thought, the meaning of these odd feelings these past few months hitting her square in the chest with stark realization, and stealing the very breath from her lungs.

_No...But that would mean..._Lauren swallowed hard, visibly paling. _That would mean...Dear god! _

Lauren ran her fingers through her waves, agitation replacing that euphoric feeling from moments ago.

_That would mean that I have a crush on Severus Snape!_


	26. Chapter 26

Lauren stood frozen to the spot, almost as though ice had solidified in her very veins.

_No, no, no, no, no, no. No! h_er mind pleaded in what could be best described as growing, maniacal panic. _This is not good. Not good at all._

Lauren slid down to the floor, resting her back against her bed and drawing her knees upto her chest as she wrapped her arms around them, feeling distinctly numb with her growing horror.

_It’s one thing to be friends with Severus Snape – it’s an entirely different _ _story altogether to develop_ _ feelings for him._

A humourless chuckle escaped her lips at that thought.

_Feelings? Do I really have feelings for him? Sure, I like him – but only as a friend. This is...this is just a silly little crush, that’s all._

Lauren hung her head, resting her forehead against her knees as she groaned in exasperation.

_Fucking hormones! _ _They_ _ had to make an appearance and fuck everything up._

Lauren sat there for the longest while, her tumultuous thoughts running in an endless, agitated loop around and around in her head.

_T_ _hat’s all this_ _ is. It’s just my stupid teenage hormones. Nothing else._

Rising shakily to her feet, Lauren swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. For that conviction had felt distinctly like a lie. A lie she wasvery determined to tell herself.

Lauren shook her head, sending her dark waves tumbling over her shoulders.

_No, there’s nothing more to this. __It’s just a crush and __I’ll get over it. _Lauren chewed on her thumb nail as her thoughts started running a mile a minute. _In the meantime, though, Snape can never find out. __He will not handle __silly notions of infatuation__ very well,_she thought.

Lauren would have snorted in amusement if the situation hadn’t been so dire. No, Snape could never find out about her feelings, forshe valued their friendship too much to risk ruining it by confessing something that was silly and fleeting, and would surely pass in time.

In the meantime, though, she was going to have to draw upon all her limited acting skills and pretend as though nothing had changed.

_But what if this is more than just a crush? _that sneaky bastard of her inner voice asked slyly.

Lauren shook her head again, resolve settling like steel within her core.

_No, this is __n__othing more. Because if __it is,_ _well, __then I am royally fucked. __Besides,__ it’s not __as though_ _things between us can ever become...more__. Snape will always view me as a child – this he has stated quite plainly. __Not to mention that he’ll always hold a candle for Lily Evans. No, n__o __good __will come out __by_ _confessing__. Best to keep my mouth shut and __carry on as normal__._

Lauren drew in a deep breath and carefully drew upon her Occlumency, shuttering down the crashing emotions that threatened to overwhelm and suffocate her. She struggled to clear her mind so that her panicked thoughts were nothing more than a low background hum, affording her some controlled form of functionality.

And just in the nick of time too, for Tracey chose that moment to enter their room. She paused in the doorway, eyeing Lauren’s pale, yet shuttered down expression.

“Are you okay, Lauren?” she asked, stepping further into the room.

Lauren gave her friend a tight smile, fighting with all her might to hold onto her thinly controlled shields. The warring emotions within her were threatening to break down those walls at any moment.

“Yup,” she replied, popping the ‘p’.

Tracey’s eyes narrowed, clearly not believing her, not even for a second.

_Crap! Crap! Crap! If I can’t fool Tracey then how the hell am I going to fool Snape?_

Lauren shoved thatmanicthought into the dark recess of her mind. “I was just grabbing my sweater,” she deflected, unfreezing from her spot and making her way to her closet. She flung open the doors and grabbed the first sweater she could find.

Tracey watched her movements withcontemplative thought while Lauren proceeded to shove her chosen sweater down over her head, straightening it out before turning to face her friend with an obviously fake smile plastered upon her face.

“Ready?”

Tracey was silent for a few moments more, but then she gave a slow nod of her head. Lauren was, not for the first time, thankful for this particular trait that Tracey possessed. She did not pry or ask invasive questions, and she respected the boundaries of others.

They made their way down towards the school grounds, walking side-by-side in companionable silence. Lauren had her hands thrust deep into her pockets and her head slightly bent as she mulled over her dilemma, coming time and time again to the same conclusion: _Snape c__an__ never find out_.

Movement up ahead caught their attention and diverted each from their inner musings.

Hermione and Harry were supporting a pale and sickly looking Ronald Weasley between them. Lauren and Tracey’s steps slowed to a halt and they watched as Ron turned a sickly green hue before he spewed up a trail ofthick, slimy slugs, which splattered to the ground with a sickening sound.

“Eww,” Tracey exclaimed, screwing her face up in disgust as she instinctively stepped back as the Golden Trio neared them, who were obviously intent on making their way to Hagrid’s hut.

Harry and Hermione glanced up at the exclamation, Harry’s vivid green eyes narrowing in suspicion behind his round glasses, clearly expecting another form of goading or confrontation with the Slytherin girls.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione urged, huffing as she tried to support Ron’s weight. “Just ignore them.”

Lauren couldn’t explain what compelled her to do so, but shetook a step towards them and stated, “Looks like he was hit with a nasty hex. Did his wand backfire?”

“What’s it to you?” Harry snapped, ignoring Hermione’s pleas and coming to a complete standstill. Ron let out another belch, resulting in more slugs to slosh to the ground.

Lauren cut her gaze to Ron, and thankfully her Occlumency shields were firmly in place for she would otherwise be wearing the same expression of disgust as Tracey.

_Not a__n_ _affliction__ I would __care __to __have__._

But in this moment she took pity on the redhead and Lauren glanced back at Harry. “Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s a counter spell to undo it. Ron’s just going to have to ride it out, but he should be alright in about two hours.”

Her reassurance only seemed to only make Harry more suspicious of her intent. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to her every word with the keen interest.

“Try boiling some fluxweed in water and, if you can,get him to drink it – it will help with the nausea,” Lauren explained, her attention now focused on Hermione, whom she sensed would at least listen to her advice.

Hermione blinked, confused that not only was a Slytherin not making fun of Ron, but was uncharacteristically offering some form of help and advice.

Harry huffed in annoyance and then tugged on Ron, causing Hermione to jolt back into motion.

Lauren watched them go, overhearing Harry muttering to Hermione, “It’ll probably poison Ron, Hermione. I wouldn’t trust anything a Slytherin has to say.”

Lauren gave a mental sigh and shook her head. This bias between the two Houses was too deep-rooted for any of them to listen to reason.

She turned around and stilled when she noted the furrowed expression upon Tracey’s pale features that clearly indicated that she was confused by Lauren’s recent actions.

“What?”

“You tried to help them...Why?” Tracey asked.

Lauren shrugged. “Dunno, really. It’s not like they’re going to take my advice anyway,” she replied, her gaze drawn once more to the retreating trio.Then she cut her eyes back to Tracey. “Just...please don’t tell Draco. I don’t think he would appreciate that I was fraternizing with the enemy.”

Tracey’s gaze flickered briefly at the Gryffindorsin question.Then she turned back to Lauren, tucking her sleek hair behind her ear and wearing a concerned expression. “You’re not yourself today, Lauren. Normally you wouldn’t care about them one way or the other. And you’ve been acting a bit offish ever since you went back to the dormitory. What happened?”

Lauren blinked and mentally fortified her shields, afraid she would let something slip - either by expression or by words - to her ever perceptive friend. “It’s nothing, Tracey. Just drop it. I’ll be fine. Promise,” Lauren stated, casting a reassuring smile at the other girl.

Tracey, for her part, didn’t look reassured in the least, but decided to let it go, though she did cast a few furtive glances Lauren’s way as they continued on their walk.

They reached the castle by lunch time with Lauren feeling less anxious about her predicament.

_This shouldn’t be too bad. I just have to act like everything is normal when I’m around Snape. Nothing to it. _

That ridiculous resolve was instantly shattered when they entered the Great Hall and her gaze wasimmediately drawn to the staff table, her eyes locking on the dark form of Severus Snape. Lauren’s whole world narrowed down on this man, and she felt as though she were standing on a precipice, about to tumble over the edge and plummet into dark void below with no one to pull her to safety.

Snape was chatting with Madam Pomfrey, but it was almost as though he sensed her hungry gaze boring into him, for he turned his head and theirs eyes locked in that moment.

The very air stole from her lungs in a whoosh, and that odd fluttery sensation deep in the pit of her stomach intensified.

_Oh fuck, _her mind screamed in panic. _I was wrong._ _This is not going to be easy at all._

A slight frown furrowed Snape’s dark brows as he discerned that something wasn’t quite right with her, and Lauren knew she had to nip this in the bud right away. She tore her gaze away from his, her heart twisting painfully in her chest in the process, almost as though it was a physical connection she was severing, and followed Tracey to the Slytherin table.

She could practically feel his dark, penetrating gaze upon her the entire way there, as well as throughout her meal, but she kept her head down and tried to ignore Snape as best she could. Which was easier said than done, especially when her very being longed for nothing more than to look up at him, if only for a few seconds. Though, a few seconds would never be enough, this Lauren was fast realizing. If she did so, her resolve would shatter into a million pieces right there and then; pieces she would never be able to put back together again. This could fast become an addiction - a craving she would never be fully able to suppress.

_I am so fucked, it’s not even funny. How am I going to do this?_

With growing dread, Lauren realized that she had no idea how she was going to get through this.

_Bugger me._

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The weekend progressed in very much the same manner, with Lauren studiously avoiding Snape’s gaze, which was willing her to look up at him during mealtimes and the rare times their paths crossed. It killed her a little inside to have to ignore him, but she knew it needed to be done.

_I can’t give in to these feelings for him. If I do, it will only end in disaster. _ _But it’s so hard ignoring him like this._

But these moments were only but a taste of what was yet to come. Monday morning Lauren glanced down at her timetable during breakfast and her heart gave a painful twist in her chest when she noted that her next Potion lesson was after lunch.

This would be the true test of her mettle.

Lauren numbly folded up her timetable and stowed it away safely in her robe pocket, her appetite suddenly diminished and her heart rate starting to speed up as her anxiety increased.

“You okay, Ward?” Draco asked from beside her as he poured some cereal into his bowl.

“Yeah, I fine,” Lauren muttered.

“You look kinda pale,” Tracey noted.

“She’s always pale, Davis,” Draco commented.

“True, but more pale than usual.”

“Will you two quit discussing my complexion,” Lauren grumbled, not having the energy to put up with their teasing banter this morning.

Draco and Tracey shared a look over Lauren’s slouched form. Then Tracey reached out and placed a comforting hand on Lauren’s back.

“Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing. Maybe have Madam Pomfrey look over you?”

As tempting as that idea was, Lauren knew she couldn’t avoid Snape altogether. She was going to have to get through this, and preferably with her resolve intact.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Lauren assured with a tight-lipped smile at the both of them.

“Do you want me to get Professor Snape?” Draco asked.

“No!” Her answer came out more forcibly than she intended it to, and Draco gave her a puzzled look in return, though shrewd thoughtfulness gleamed in those ice blue eyes of his. Lauren drew in a breath and continued in a more restrained tone, “No. I don’t need to see Madam Pomfrey or Professor Snape. I’ll be fine. Okay?”

Draco was about to open his mouth to protest, but a shake of Tracey’s head stopped him. He frowned at the other girl, but then shrugged and stated, “Fine by me.”

The rest of breakfast was eaten in silence and then the bell rang for the start of the first lesson of the day.

After lunch, Lauren followed the rest of her Slytherin class down to the cool, damp dungeon, outwardly appearing silent and reserved. Inwardly, though, her insides were twisting and knotting into a nervous jumble, and she was tempted right there and then to bolt as they waited with the Gryffindors outside the Potion classroom.

Then the door swung open and Snape’s deep, silky voice ordered them inside. Lauren swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in her throat and steeled herself as best she could.

As they filed into the classroom, Lauren kept her head bent and her eyes downcast. But as she passed Snape, who was holding the door open and watching as each of his students entered his classroom, a shiver coursed through her body when his familiar and intoxicating scent washed over her, and she almost stumbled at the intense impact of this reaction to him.

Somehow she made it to her workstation, feeling his gaze boring into the whole way there. She clutched the edge of the table for support as she took deep steadying breaths to calm her jittery nerves.She briefly closed her eyes and fortified her Occlumency shields, managing to somehow don a neutral expression that gave none of her inner terror away.

_I can do this. I can do this,_ she repeated like a mantra in her head. Suddenly a jolt of panic lanced through her. _I...I can’t do this. _Her grip upon the workstation tightened as she opened her eyes and drew in another deep breath. _You have no choice, Lauren. You have to get through this. One way or the other, you have to._

A weighted silence had descended upon the room as Snape stood in front of the class with his hands clasped behind his back, watching and waiting. Lauren was certain he was waiting for her to make the next move.

She drew in one morefortifying breath and slowly lifted her gaze. Her eyes instantly locked with his, and it took every bit of Lauren’s resolve to maintain her expressionless mask as she stared back at him, the deep yearning within her intensifying like a torrential river deep inside her.

Some unreadable emotion flashed within his dark eyes and Snape’s brows furrowed, twisting his features into that of displeasure and acute irritation. Then he abruptly turned his back on her marched over to the blackboard, flicking his wrist sharply and causing spidery writing to appear on the board.

“Today you will be brewing a Fire Protection Potion. The instructions are on the board. Get on with it,” he snapped rather curtly, whirling around to face the entire class and levelling them with his darkest scowlthat made him ten times more intimidating than his usual self.

The effect was immediate and theSlytherins and Gryffindors sprang into action, making their way to the storage closet to collect the required ingredients for the potion Snape had ordered them to brew.

“Snape’s in a bad mood,” Tracey muttered under her breath, loud enough for only Lauren to hear.

Lauren hummed in affirmation, but diligently focused on the potion at hand. As she followed the steps outlined on the blackboard, an intuitive instinct kicked in and soon she was altering some of the ingredients needed, evenadding a few extra stirs and counter stirs to the concoction bubbling within her cauldron. Maybe this intuition derived from all her time spent brewing with Snape, his guidance and imparted knowledge sticking with her, or maybe it was due to the fact that she had in actuality inherited Bethany Ward’s talents, but Lauren could no longer deny that she did in fact possess a real talent for the subject.

Soon she became immersed in her brewing, the challenge helping to keep her mind focused and cast her dilemma otherwise known as Snape from her thoughts, that she at first did not notice the dark shadow that had fallen over her as she peered keenly into her cauldron.

Lauren reached out to pick up the vial of salamander blood, which was needed for the next step, but then paused, intuition telling her to add a sprig of lavender first.

“What are you doing, Miss Ward?”

Lauren startled, almost dropping the herb clutched in her hand as she glanced up at Snape, who was standing on the other side of her workstation and peering down his nose at her in a cold, haughty manner. Something dark and foreboding glinted in the fathomless depths of his eyes.

Heart pounding in her chest, Lauren swallowed thickly and quickly dropped her gaze, unable to meet the intensity of hisown.

“I’m brewing the Fire Protection Potion, Sir,” she mumbled, trying hard to ignore the slight tremor that now coursed through her body. She slammed her Occlumency shields in place, desperately trying to rein in her traitorous emotions.

“And why are you adding lavender? I do not recall it being on of the list of required ingredients for the potion,” he sneered.

Lauren was distantly aware that the rest of the class had fallen silent as they observed the scene playing out.

“No, it isn’t,” Lauren murmured, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Look at me when you speak to me, Miss Ward,” Snape commanded, his voice dropping into a low octave, though there was no mistaking the authority wielded in his softly spoken words.

Lauren clenched her jaw, knowing Snape was not only forcing her to acknowledge him, but converse with him as well, and was employing the tactic of goading her to do so. She just wish he hadn’t chosen to make it a form of public humiliation.

She slowly lifted her chin, defiance flashing within her midnight blue eyes as she glared back at him.

His eyes narrowed into slits before his expression morphed into that of hard, cold stoniness. “Care to explain why you are adding lavender if it isn’t one of the ingredients required?” he drawled with a bite of condescension to his tone.

Irritation bubbled within her. Snape knew full well that Laurenpossessed a knack for brewing and had, in the past,encouraged her to explore her intuitive side. The fact that he now suddenly had a problem with it meant that he was employing more nefarious means to get a reaction out of her.

“Intuition,” Laurenground out through clenched teeth.

His nostrils flared as he glared down his nose at her. “Intuition?” he patronized. “And tell me, Miss Ward, do you harbour the delusional notion that your..._intuition_ is far more superior than that of the written works of Potion Masters and Mistresses - who were infinitely more advanced and skilled than that of a child such as yourself – and as such you consider their knowledge beneath you and that you can do as you please?”

Lauren knew the best course of action was to ignore him. But she had always been abysmal at heeding her inner voice of reason.

“Yes, especially when those Potion Masters are snarky gits who are so narrow minded and arrogantly set in their ways that they cannot comprehend that not only can advancements be made on their potions, but there is also room for improvement. Even if the form of improvement comes from a child who possesses more intuition than they do!” she snapped back.

There was a collective gasp from the class, most comprehending that Lauren had just insulted Snape on a very high level. But the two in question were too busy glaring at each other to pay them much attention.

Then Snape’s eyes flickered down to her cauldron and when he slowly raised his gaze to hers, a cruel smirk was curling his thin lips.

“Ah, but we shall never find out if you are indeed correct, Miss Ward – you failed to continue stirring your potion and, as such, it is now ruined.”

Lauren’s eyes widened and she glanced down to find that her potion had, indeed, started boiling over in a thick, unusable sludge.

“So much for _intuition,_” Snape sneered condescendingly.

Lauren clenched her fists and was about to let loose an angry string of retorts mixed with a healthy dose of insults, when Snape continued on silkily, sounding almost too pleased with himself, “See me after class, Miss Ward.”

A growl of frustration escaped her lips, which only caused his smug smirk to broaden before he swept away from her station and headed back to the front of the class.

_Of all the people I could have developed __feelings for__, it had to be the cruel, __sadistic, __snarky dungeon bat of Hogwarts! _Lauren mentally fumed as she proceeded to clear up her mess of a potion.

The bell rang, indicating the lesson was over, andthe rest of the class filed out while Lauren remained seated on her stool, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she inwardly seethed. The door slammed shut behind the last student and Lauren steeled herself for the confrontation that was to sure to come.

A dark shadow fell over her, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge Severus.

“Look at me, Miss Ward.”

Lauren clenched her jaw and slowly raised her head, that odd tingly sensation settling in the pit of her stomach when their eyes locked, which she stubbornly ignored.

“What?” she snapped.

Snape slowly folded his arms in front of him as he regarded her, his expression set into that of cool assessment.

“What is troubling you?” he asked in a restrained tone, almost as though it were taking all of his will power not to shout at her.

“Nothing,” Lauren replied agitatedly as she ran her hand through hair, the charms on her bracelet tinkling with the movement.

Snape’s sharp gaze was drawn to it and quicker than the blink of an eye, he had her wrist clutched in his long-fingered iron grip. Lauren instinctively slammed her Occlumency shields in place when her magic flaredout with almost violent yearning at his touch, and she desperately tried to yank her arm free, but Snape held fast. He must have erected his own Occlumency shields for he seemed oblivious to her magical reaction, his sharp gaze narrowing in and focusing on the small obsidian pendant dangling from the bracelet; the black a stark contrast to the rest of the silver.

“You have been acting strangely ever since I gave this to you,” he stated, his tone now becoming brittle.

Sudden panic lanced through her at the thought that he might try to take the gift back. Even though there was no special meaning behind it, she valued it all the same. It had come from him - a rare gesture that meant more to her than she cared to admit.

“No, I -.”

Snape violently flung her wrist aside, almost as though he were disgusted. “It was just a silly, cheap trinket given to an equally silly child. There is no special gesture or meaning behind it, Miss Ward – that I can assure you. Though your reaction has made me see that it was foolish to do so, and I can assure you that it’s not a mistake I will make again,” he spat out.

His words were like a slap to the face, hurting more than they should have.

“It’s not the gift -.”

Snape gave a derisive snort as he levelled her with his best baleful look. “Do not patronize me, Miss Ward. You clearly mistook a meaningless gift to mean something more – hardly surprising considering that you are but a child.”

Lauren shot up to her feet, her stool clattering to the hard stone floor as her anger bubbled to boiling point. “Stop calling me a child!”

“Then stop acting like one,” he countered without missing a beat.

They glared at each other, the seconds ticking by in painful progression.

Finally it was Lauren who caved. “It’s not the gift. I most certainly didn’t take it to mean anything more than just a simple birthday present,” she ground out, her body still trembling with pent up fury.

Snape regarded her critically, his penetrating gaze boring into her as he tried to discern any lies on her part. Finally he blinked and folded his arms in front of him once more, his temper marginally back under control as he asked, “Care to explain what is really going on then?”

Lauren deflated. She had been hoping that the conversation wouldn’t have come to this. “Not really.”

His dark eyes flashed and Lauren hastened on before he could cut her down with another verbal tirade.

“It’s not something that I really want to discuss with you. Trust me, you don’t want to hear it.”

Severus was silent for a few moments. “You don’t want to tell me, or you don’t feel comfortable discussing it with me?”

Lauren bit her bottom lip. “A little bit of both.”

Snape peered intently at her. Then a cool, shuttered facade overcame his features and when next he spoke it was with arrogant detachment. “Considering that you do not trust me enough to confide in me, then I suggest that you sort out whatever is bothering you. And quickly. I have no desire to deal with a tiresome, hormonal teenager any more than I have to.”

“That was mean.”

“It was meant to be,” Snape snapped back.

Lauren stood rooted to the spot as she discerned a flash of hurt in his eyes before he quickly hid it.

_Shit. He thinks I don’t trust him._

Before she could open her mouth to say otherwise, Snape flung his arm out and pointed towards the door. “Now get out!”

His cold dismissal hurt like a physical slap to the face. Lauren blinked back the tears that had sprung unbidden to her eyes and, knowing it was no use trying to explain without revealing the truth to him, she exited the classroom. The door slammed shut behind her with a resounding bang,causing Lauren to startle.

_Fuck. That did not go well_ _. _ _But _ _Snape can never find out. _ _His reaction will be a hundred times worse if he ever learns that I like him as more than a friend._

But as she headed to her next lesson, which she was exceptionally late for, Lauren could not deny that she was feeling like absolute shit. Their fight had been terrible and she could still picture the hurt flashing within his eyes – a hurt she had caused.

Her heart gave a guilty, painful twist and then her steps halted as a thought slithered into the recess of her mind.

_Are my feelings for Snape a product, a side effect, of this_ _ magical bond we share?..._

Her brows knitted together.

_Is it this bond that is causing these feeling to arise?_

Lauren stood rooted to the spot as the implication of this theory hit her hard. But she had no way of really knowing for sure. She knew for certain that she couldn’t ask Snape – he had stubbornly refused thus far to offer any further explanation on the subject. Dumbledore would be equally less forthcoming. So that only left one option: the library.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The weeks that followed their argument was absolute torture. Snape, for his part, completely ignored Lauren, even during their private lessons. Very little conversation passed between them then, with Snape only issuing a few abrupt commands before he launched into brutal and swift attacks, which Lauren valiantly tried to deflect and shield herself from. Afterwards, he would simply leave the room, leaving Lauren alone to tend to her various cuts and scrapes.

Tears stung her eyes as she applied the salves and downed the pain potion that he had, thankfully, remembered to leave for her, but she knew she could not cave on this. But she had no idea how to make things right between them either. So they continued on with this spiteful dance.

Lauren found herself spending more and more in the library, trying to research this magical bond they shared. She had spent a vast amount of time and effort flipping through any book that she thought looked promising, but with little to no luck. Her next alternative was going to have to be the Restricted Section. Only problem was, she needed a permission slip from a teacher to enter that section of the library.

Lockhart was out of the question. He hated her, especially since she was now rudely interrupting his class on a regular basis, making it no secret that she despised the man with well-timed snide comments. McGonagall would pry too much, as would the other teachers. And Snape...well, he was definitely not an option right now. Lauren’s only alternative was to continue searching on her own and hopefully stumble upon the answer along the way. Thus far it wasn’t working.

Halloween was soon upon them, bringing with it the brisk and cool change in temperature and weather. The Forbidden Forest had turned a breathtaking hue of burnished red, brown and golden yellow, and the Great Hall had been decked out in Hagrid’s giant jack o’ lanterns that floated above the tables, their carved out faces glowing orange. All-in-all, Hogwarts gave off a distinctive Halloween atmosphere.

This should have been a time to feast and pig out on all the good Halloween food but, unfortunately, Lauren’s extra ‘Potion lesson’ fell on that night.

She made her way to the Potion classroom and gave a respectful knock before waiting. There was no reply and Lauren tried again with the same result. She finally pushed open the door to find the room jarringly empty. Usually Snape would be seated behind his desk, marking a pile of essays as he waited for her. Not today, though.

Lauren briefly contemplated simply just turning around and leaving, but knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. Snape would not appreciate her playing hooky. Deciding to try his office, she swung open the door to reveal a sullen and brooding Professor Snape seated behind his desk, a glass of Firewhisky clutched in his hand.

Lauren paused, contemplating whether she should just leave. Snape clearly was not in a good mood, especially if he was resorting to drinking this early in the day, and she really didn’t have the energy to face his cruel wrath tonight.

But as she stared at him, Lauren knew she couldn’t just leave. She stepped further into the room.

“Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.

Snape did not deign to acknowledge her and, instead, raised his glass to his lips, taking a small sip of the amber liquid. Then he set it back down on his desk with a soft _clunk._

“Nothing that I feel comfortable discussing with you,” he intoned with dry bitterness, causing Lauren to flinch as her own words were flungback in her face.

_O_ _uch, that hurt. Snape _ _probably _ _felt the exact same way when I told him _ _that._

Lauren swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat and glanced around the room. Artemis was perched upon the bookshelf, eyeing her with the same amount of cold disdain as his Master.

_Great. Even my bird now blames me for this fuck up._

She turned her attention back to Snape, not knowing what else to say. “Are we not going to practise duelling?”

“No.”

Lauren breathed in deeply through her nose, finally having enough of this animosity brewing between them. “You could have at least informed me.”

“I just did.”

“You know what I mean. It wouldn’t have taken much effort to send me a note saying that today’s lesson was cancelled.”

“And why should I, considering that you have not exactly been forthcoming with me either, Miss Ward.”

Lauren’s patience had now reached its end, and she had now had quite enough of his churlish attitude. “That’s rich coming from you. You’ve been withholding information from me from the get-go.”

“No idea what you mean,” he deflected with effortless ease before raising his glass to his lips once more.

Lauren closed the distance and slammed her palms against the surface of his desk as she leaned forward and levelled him with a stern glare; one Snape returned with equal intensity.

“Yes, you do.”

Snape glared back at her, his eyes darkening as his temper started to rise to the forefront.

“The magical bond we share?” Lauren pressed. “What aren’t you telling me about it?”

Her question had an immediate impact. Snape stilled, the very air between them fortifying like an invisible wall.

Lauren pushed away from the desk when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to answer her.

“God dammit! I have a right to know, Severus,” she snarled.

“Professor Snape,” he corrected caustically, snapping back into Dungeon Master mode. “And no, you don’t have a right to know. You have absolutely no right to demand an answer either.”

“Yes I do, considering that concerns me as well, and that it’s affecting me!”

Snape blinked, his anger fast giving way to shock as her words sunk in.He laid down his glass and clutched the armrests of his chair. “Affecting you how?”

Lauren quickly realized that she was soon about to let slip the truth, and she quickly backpedalled. “Nothing. Forget about it. I’ll just leave you alone to...wallow, or whatever it is what you were doing” she snapped, whirling around to leave.

The door slammed shut in her face and Lauren spun around to shout at him, only to find Snape looming over her, a hairbreadth of space separating them. She stepped back, her back hitting against the hard wood of the now shut door.

“Affecting you how?” Snape repeated, his words drawn out in a dangerous growl.

Lauren swallowed hard at his close proximity. “Let me out.”

“Not until you tell me,” he demanded.

Sudden angerflared within her. “How about you tell me about this bond?” she fired back.

“You are in no position to demand such a thing,” Snape retorted, bending slightly at the waist so that his face was now inches from her own. His hot breath fluttered across her face and Lauren closed her eyes as her senses became overwhelmed with his intoxicating scent.

_He’s too close. He’s too distracting. Focus on your anger, Ward. Don’t cave._

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and slowly opened her eyes, almost toppling over into thedark abyss of his obsidian gaze. Somehow, though, she managed to ground herself and keep her senses.

“I guess we’re at an impasse then. If you refuse to explain this bond fully to me, then I think it’s only fair that I do the same.”

His expression hardened, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Do not play games with me, Miss Ward,” he warned, his softly spoken words slithering along her skin and causing goosebumps to rise.

Lauren let out a short humourless laugh. “Oh, this is no game, _Sir. _Believe me, I know that_. _Now tell me what is going on.”

A few beats of poignant silence passed between them as they stared at each other, each willing the other to break and crumble. Then Snape suddenly straightened up like an elastic band being released and, without another word spoken to her, whirled around and stormed to his private chambers, the door slamming shut with an echoing bang.

Lauren thunked the back of her head against the door behind her, a growl of frustration escaping her lips.

_Well, that went well. Great job, Lauren, _she chastised. _But the bleeding sod still didn’t give me an answer!_

Anger unfurled within her once more.

_Enough of this. I’m going to get an answer one way or the other._

Lauren pushed away from the door and stormed over to the one Snape had just left through and that led to his private chambers. She hammered on the door, demanding that he let her in. Silence was her only answer.

Sensing that he would continue to ignore her, Lauren kicked the door in her frustration and immediately started hopping on the spot as a sharp pain lanced through her foot. Finally the pain subsided and she glared daggers at the door before she stormed out of the Potion classroom and slammed the door shut behind her, hoping that it had been loud enough for Snape to hear.

Fuming with righteous anger, she stormed mindlessly through gloomy corridors until she finally found herself at the library.

_I’m here now. Might as well see if I can find anything new..._

Lauren spent the next two hours poring over volumes of tomes in her search for an answer to the magical bond. But, just like before, her search proved fruitless. Lauren snapped the last book in her pile shut and let out a frustrated huff.

Then movement caught her eye and she spied the severe looking form of Madam Pince, the librarian, shuffling around as she returned some books to their rightful place.

Lauren waited for her to return back to her desk before she approached.

Madam Pince’s parchment-like skin and sunken cheeks, as well as he hooked nose and stern demeanour, gave her the distinct look of an underfed vulture.Her raven black hair was tied back in a neat bun and was mostly hidden under a pointed black witch’s hat, adding to the overall effect.

“Excuse me, Madam Pince,” Lauren greeted politely.

The librarian glanced up sharply at the interruption, not bothering to offer her a smile.

“I was looking for a book that deals with magical bonds...” Lauren trailed off, realizing that she did not know the right terminology for it. “I’m not exactly sure what it would be called, but I know it’s rare and it’s a bond, or a connection, formed between a witch and wizard.”

Madam Pince was silent for a few seconds as she contemplated Lauren’s request. “The magical bonds that you’re talking about would be considered old magic, folk lore if you will. I do happen to have a book that might deal with the subject.”

Hope swelled within Lauren’s chest; hope that she was finally going to get an answer to this riddle.

Madam Pince turned sharply and made her way to a tall cabinet that housed the old fashioned library card system. Lauren watched as the librarian flipped through the cards crammed in one of the narrow drawers until she finally found the one she was looking for and withdrew it with a claw-like hand whose nails had been painted black.

She returned to Lauren. “The book you are looking for is called _Olde Magical Lore __Unravelled__. _Unfortunately, it has been checked out.”

“Of course it is.” Lauren muttered, deflating. She then paused, a sneaky suspicion occurring to her. “Was it Professor Snape by any chance who checked it out?”

Madam Pince glanced down at the card clutched between her thumb and forefinger and gave a curt nod of her head. “Yes, Professor Snape was the one who checked it.”

Lauren pursed her lips, her ire at the dark Potion Master growing quite substantially. She thanked the librarian and decided to head back to her dorm room, knowing there wasn’t much else she could do about it tonight.

_Trust Snape to have the very book that I am looking for. He's_ _ certainly_ _ hellbent on me not finding out _ _the truth about this bond_ _. I guess _ _my only alternative is to_ _ write to Flourish and Blotts and order a copy for myself..._ _Or demand it from Snape tomorrow..._

Lauren was so absorbed in her thoughts that she let out a startled yelp when something crashed upon her head, her vision becoming obscured with red.

A delighted high-pitched cackle followed suit and it didn’t take long for her brain to catch up with what was going on.

_Peeves!_

Lauren swiped the sticky strands of hair from her face, grimacing when her hands came away red.

_What the hell did he throw at me?!_

Her gaze landed on an ink well shattered by her feet on the floor.

_Ink. He bloody well doused me with red ink! This is so going to be a bitch to wash out!_

“Peeves!” Lauren growled, withdrawing her wand. “You bloody annoying pest! When I get my hands on you, you’ll wish you had joined the afterlife instead of remaining a poltergeist here!”

Peeves, clearly unconcerned by her threat, cackled even louder.

“ICKY WARD! ICKY WARD! COVERED IN RED FROM TOES TO HEAD. ICKY WARD!ICKY WARD!”

“I’m so going to exorcise you!” Lauren shouted as she started firing hexes at the poltergeist.

Peeves cackled delightedly as he avoided her hexes and zoomed away, blowing raspberries in his wake.

Fuelled by her raging fury, Lauren chased after him, her wand clutched in her hand, but soon lost sight of the poltergeist. She rounded a corner and skidded to a halt when she came upon Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled together and staring at something on the wall.

The Golden Trio whirled around at the sound of her approach and openly gaped at the sight of her, their eyes widening like saucers. Lauren frowned at their reactions and was about to snap something at them when she caught sight of something peculiar - Mrs Norris hanging by her tail from a torch bracket, stiff as a board and her yellow eyes glassy.

Bright red letters above the petrified cat caught her attention, and her gaze flickered upwards to read the ominous message written in blood on the wall: The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.

Lauren blinked at the words, her brain battling to catch up with events.

The distant rumble of the approaching crowd foretold that the Halloween Feast had ended and the students were now heading back to their dorms, blocking off both corridors. Then, like a crashing wave, over a hundred students spilled into the corridor, coming to a complete halt as they stared at the scene before them.

A few moments of stunned silence followed and then Draco pushed through the crowd impatiently, his shrewd eyes landing on the bright red words scrawled on the wall.

“Enemies of the heir beware!” Then his gaze landed on Lauren and he openly gaped in shock at the sight of her. He quickly recovered, though, and asked, “Is that blood, Ward?”

Lauren snapped out of her stupor and swiped her sticky hair from her flushed face, smearing more ink all over her face. She was uncomfortably aware of how all of this must seem.

_Bloody Peeves. He had to pull this stunt now of all times. When I get my hands on him, I’m going to kill him all over again!_

“No. It’s -.”

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” Filch’s wheezy demand sounded as he limped through the crowd, bow-backed and greasy looking as ever. His watery eyes landed on Mrs Norris and he let out an anguished wail that filled the dead silence of the corridor.

Lauren wanted nothing more than to make her escape, but knew she couldn’t leave now undetected.

Suddenly Filch rounded on Harry. “You!” he screeched. “You’ve killed my cat! You’ve -.” He stuttered to a halt at the sight of Lauren covered in red ink that looked suspiciously like blood. He gawped, a choking sound gurgling in the back of his throat. Then he regained his senses. “You’ve killed her!” he cried, pointing a yellow nailed finger at her. “Both of you! You’ve both killed my cat!”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Lauren snapped, finally having enough of his wailing. It was like nails on a chalkboard to her ears. “I didn’t kill your cat.”

“Then why is her blood all over you? I’ll kill you! I swear I will!”

“_Argus!”_

Dumbledore swept past the congregated crowd, followed closely by Professor McGonagall, Professor Lockhart, and Professor Snape.

Snape paused, coming to a standstill when his gaze landed upon Lauren, and he arched a questioning brow at her. Lauren scowled back at him, their spat from earlier on still fresh in her mind.

“They killed Mrs Norris!” Filch declared, pointinghis finger back and forth between Harry and Lauren.

Dumbledore eyed both Lauren and Harry with equal measure and then calmly detached the petrified cat from the bracket before instructing Filch, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lauren to follow him.

_Fuck. So now it begins. And it would seem that I __am_ _now__ a prime suspect. Great. Just freaking great._


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a bit of a long author's note, as I feel that I need to address a few issues. I don't do this often, so please bear with me.
> 
> Firstly, I've received my first fanart for this story *happy dance* Thank you so much, animechick247. If you guys want to check it out, you can view it on Deviant Art under the user name of Animechick247. Sorry, I'm not sure how to post the link here.
> 
> Now some have voiced concerns that this story is going to turn into some sort of twisted pedo tale. Absolutely NOT. As I have clearly stated in the beginning of the story, the romance will only happen in later years, when Lauren is practically an adult in the wizarding world. Well, physically at least. These feeling developing is all Lauren and very much one sided.
> 
> Now onto Lauren herself. Yup, she is very much a rough-around-the-edges, step-on-your-toes, ballsy kind of gal, but personally I am quite fond of her. I suppose I could have made her this perfect Mary-Sue whom everyone adores, but...where's the fun in that ;-) Her perspective will change as she goes through some experiences, but I have no plans on changing her.
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who has left such wonderful reviews on this story. Thank you :)

Lauren trudged behind the group that were now making their way to Lockhart’s office, wondering how she had been unfortunate enough to end up in this predicament.

_So much for staying out of events..._she thought bitterly.

The hair on the nape of her neck stood up and Lauren glanced over her shoulder to see none other than Severus Snape following close behind her, watching her intently with a guarded and shuttered expression that gave away none of his true inner thoughts.

Lauren, still feeling an immense amount of ire towards the Potion Master, tore her gaze away and focused instead on the bushy brown hair that belonged to Hermione Granger walkingin front of her as they shuffled into the dimly lit office of Gilderoy Lockhart. Lauren caught sight of many of the portraits of the real life prancing peacock hastily dodging out of sight, their hair done up in bright flamingo hued rollers or hair nets.

As Dumbledore laid the petrified cat upon the polished surface of the desk, Lauren and Harry’s eyes met at that very moment over his hunched form. Although there was very real fear evident upon his wide-eyed features, there was no mistaking the suspicion intermingled in there as well as he stared back at her.

_Hmm, he suspects me of doing this..._

They stood around in a circle as Dumbledore and McGonagall bent over the petrified Mrs Norris, studying her intently. The air was punctuated by Filch’s wracking sobs and by Lockhart’s far-fetched theories of what could have killed the cat, unsurprisingly reverting to hisboastful and outlandish ‘heroic escapades’.

Lauren bit her tongue, wishing nothing for nothing more than to cut the man down with a few razor-sharp retorts. But right now she was a prime suspect and, as such, it was best to keep a low profile for the time being.

_Best not to make _ _things_ _ worse for myself _ _by saying something stupid_ _..._ _Honestly, how do I find myself in these situations..._

Her gaze drifted and, of its own accord, was drawn to Snape, who was standing half in the shadows the candles had formed, a dark scowl furrowing his pale features as his irritation with Flockhart grew more and more pronounced with each passing moment.

Lauren frowned as she studied him. Snape looked almost ill, his features pinched into taut lines that suggested a man who was troubled deeply by something.Or maybe it was simply bad lighting, but Lauren’s gut instinct told her this was not the case.

_Surely our fight did not __bother__ him that much. We’ve had __our __spats before and it’s never __troubled__ him __to th__e_ _point_ _of looking visibly ill__..._

Sensing her gaze upon him, Snape’s head snapped up, his obsidiangaze locking with her own. The moment shuddered to a halt and the very air froze in her lungs as his penetrating gaze bore into her, pinpointing her to the very spot and holding her captive.It would be so easy to become forever lost in those dark fathomless depths like a lone vessel navigating the raging swirl of the ocean.

Lauren swallowed thickly and tore her gaze away.

_No, Lauren. You’re going to have to stamp down these feelings. It’s only going to lead to heartache in the end..._

Suddenly sensing another pair of eyes upon her, Lauren glanced over in the direction of the Golden Trio, fully expecting it to be Harry who was watching her with a mistrustful gaze. To her surprise, though, it was Hermione who was observing her keenly, her brows furrowed in thoughtfulness as she mentally tried to piece together all pieces as to what was actually going on.

_Thankfully that group possesses some working brain cells in the form of_ _ Granger, _ _and she will at least gather together all_ _ the facts before jumping to conclusions._

Dumbledore finally straightened up, his movements garnering everyone’s attention almost immediately.

“She is not dead, Argus,” the Headmaster stated calmly as he addressed the distressed caretaker.

Filch dropped his hands from his face, his watery eyes glistening with tears. “Not dead?” he choked out. “But why is she all...stiff and frozen?”

“She has been petrified,” Dumbledore explained as he peered at Filch over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. “How, I cannot say...”

“Ask _him_!” Filch screeched, pointing a finger at Harry.

“No second-year could have done this, Argus.”

Filch, his grief fuelling him in another direction in an almost neck break speed, rounded on Lauren instead and spat, “Ask her then! She has Mrs Norris’ blood all over her.”

“It’s not blood,” Lauren retorted through clenched teeth, her declarationcasting a spotlight upon her and causing everyone to stare at her.

“Liar! You killed her!” Filch looked like a man possessed, almost demented.

“Argus, please calm down,” Dumbledoreplacated.

Lauren, though, wasn’t going to stand meekly aside and be accused of murder. Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she glared dagger at the repulsive Filch, her temper rising to the forefront. “It’s red ink, you bloody moron!” she snarled. “And if you don’t believe me, ask that soon-to-be exorcised poltergeist, Peeves. This is his handiwork!”

Filch was about to protest, but Dumbledore held up his wizened hand, immediately silencing the other man. The Headmaster then strode towards Lauren, his garnet red robes shuffling with his movements, and Lauren tried to instinctively step back but before she could react, he swiped a gnarled fingertip across her forehead, causing it to come away bright red.

The room held their collective breaths as the Headmaster raised his fingertip to his nose and sniffed at the substance before rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

“Miss Ward is telling the truth, Argus. This is, indeed, red ink.” Dumbledore rumbled as he regarded Lauren, his bright blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “A story that can be confirmed by Peeves, I am sure.”

“But...but...” Filch stammered, clearly intent on having someone to blame. “Then it must have been him!” he screeched, his face turning a blotchy purple as he pointed a yellowed finger once more at Harry. “You saw what he wrote on the wall...He found...in my office...he knows...” Filch stammered over his words, his face screwed up as he struggled to finish his sentence. “He knows that I’m a Squib.”

“I never touched Mrs Norris!” Harry exclaimed. “And I don’t even know what a Squib is.”

“If I may interrupt,” Snape interjected smoothly, stepping fully into the circle of light the candles cast. He had donned his usual severe expression that warned others not to dare interrupt or contradict him, and the effect was immediate, for Filch immediately spluttered into silence. Snape clasped his hands behind his back and drew himself up to his full height, tall and imposing as he addressed the Headmaster. “Perhaps the children were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He paused for what others might perceive as dramatic effect, but Lauren thought she glimpsed a brief flash ofunease cross his features at the realization that his words could be perceived as coming to Harry’s defence, and he hastened to rectify that mistake. “But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the corridor in the first place, and not at the Halloween feast?”

Lauren observed in silence as the trio launched into the story of the Death Day party, Snape proceeding to grill them with questions meant to trip them up and contradict their alibis, thus ensnaring them in the trap he had weaved for them. This was the part Severus had to play to perfection, being the foul loathsome Professor. He had to be utterly convincing in his hate for the boy so that in later years his motives couldn’t be questioned.

Having toyed with the Trio enough, Snape abruptly turned his attention on Lauren. “And why were you absent from the Halloween feast, Miss Ward?” His tone had taken on a hard edge, one that hinted at his vexation.

“I was at the library looking for a book – a book that has conveniently been checked out,” she stated, levelling Snape a pointed look.

Something akin to annoyance, as well as alarm, flashed across his features as he stared back at her, his lips pressing into thin lines of displeasure.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, effectively diffusing the moment and causing everyone’s attention to focus on him instead. “Mrs Norris can be cured. Professor Sprout has recently managed to procure some mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made to revive her.”

“I’ll make it!” Lockhart immediately piped up. “I must have brewed a hundred Mandrake Restorative Draughts -.”

“You’ll end up poisoning the blasted cat and kill her for sure,” Lauren interrupted snidely. From her peripheral vision she thought she may have seen Ron cover his mouth with his hand to stifle a giggle, which earned him a sharp elbow to the ribs by a less than amused Hermione Granger.

“And need I remind you,” Snape added icily, cutting down Lockhart more effectively and efficiently than Lauren ever could, “who the Potion Master of this school is.”

A very awkward silence followed, Lockhart wisely remaining silent under Snape’s infamous glare.

Lauren thought she discerned a shadow of an amused smile twitch atDumbledore’s lips before he turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione, dismissing them for the night. They left hastily, all too eager to get the hell out of there, and Lauren couldn’t much blame them.

“Severus, could you please escort Miss Ward back to her room,” Dumbledore stated, suddenly sounding fatigued.

Snape gave a curt nod of his head and strode towards the door, holding it open for Lauren. She didn’t really want to follow him, but she didn’t particularly fancy remaining here in the same room as Lockhart. Her accusations of murder would definitely become a reality.

With a defeated sigh that echoed throughout the room, she strode out into the gloomy corridor, Snape closing the door firmly shut behind them.

“We need to talk, Miss Ward,” Snape stated. “But first...” He withdrew his wand from the sleeve of his robe and before Lauren could figure outhis intentions, he cast the cleansing spell upon her, effectively vanishing the red ink. He slipped his wand back into his sleeve, and that drawn tightness overtook his features once more.

Lauren frowned as she stared at him, immobile as she was sure she was missing something; something very important.

Snape met her gaze with a steady one of his own. “Please,” he added, the word so softly spoken that Lauren almost thought she had imagined it.

Lauren was stunned at the hint of vulnerability that foreshadowed that simple word; a simple wordthat wasn’t such a simple word for Snape. It truly was a testament of how much their argument was eating at him that he would ask her nicely. Their fight, Lauren had to admit to herself, didn’t settle too well with her either. A gut-wrenching fear had settled in the pit of her stomach at the prospect of losingthe friendship they had built together.

_And it’s because I value our friendship that I cannot give in to these feelings..._

Lauren gave a single nod of her head.

There was no discernible change in his expression, Snape remaining guardedly shuttered as he turned sharply on his heel and strode down the corridor, Lauren following closely behind. They walked in silence, Severus slowing his pace enough for Lauren to keep up.

They made their way down to the dungeons, their feet leading them to the Potion classroom and to Snape’s office beyond. He bypassed his study and, instead, made his way to the door leading to his personal chambers. Lauren hesitated for a split second as he held the door open for her, but quickly recovered and entered Snape’s living room.

The fire was crackling invitingly in the hearth, casting a warm glow upon the the room and chasing away the chill and shadows of the creeping night. As she stepped further into the room, Lauren’s gaze was drawn to the vast selection of tomes lining the bookshelf, the leather covering worn and well-read, clearly well versed by the man who owned them. Her attention was caught by the objects resting upon the mantle of the fireplace. There was an palm-sized orb glowing an ethereal, swirling, misty blue, and a small matchstick sized box embossed in gold that was tinkled softly, sounding like a wind chime pealing in the far distance.

“Please have a seat, Miss Ward.”

Snape’s words, though softly spoken, jolted Lauren from her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder at him, disconcerted that this was the first time she was being offered to remain in this room and sit down and actually have a conversation with him.

_Oh boy. This is serious..._

Her insides jittery with nerves, Lauren made her way to the loveseat, settling stiffly upon the plush cushioning, Snape seating himself shortly after in the armchair opposite her. He crossed his legs, knee over knee, and steepled his fingers in front of him as he observed her with those dark penetrating eyes.

“I think we need to discuss what happened earlier,” he stated after a long pause had passed between them. “In particular, I want to know exactly how this bond is affecting you.”

Lauren eyed him, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. “Why?” she asked guardedly.

“Because, Miss Ward, a magical bond between a witch and a wizard is not supposed to affect a person; mentally, physically, or otherwise. The fact that it is doing so is worrying, and I need to know in what manner it is affecting you.”

Lauren shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not because he was pressing her for an answer, but because she now realized that her growing feelings for the Potion Master were not a byproduct of the bond.

_Fuck! So these feelings I am experiencing are real...This is not good._

“I’d...rather not,” she mumbled, shifting again.

She expected him to lash out but, surprisingly, Snape remained uncharacteristically silent as he stared back at her.

Lauren decided to deflect before he could press his advantage, which she was sure he was planning to do. “What I want to know is why you are being so secretive about this bond? What is it about it that scares you so much?” Lauren pressed. “Because something is clearly bothering you, enough so that you refuse to tell me the full extent of it.”

Snape dropped his hands into his lap, his lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure that not only was she refusing to answer him, but was now pressing him for an answer. He was quiet for the longest moment and Lauren expected him not to answer her.

“I didn’t want this bond to begin with,” he muttered bitterly, that drawn tightness shadowing his features once more.

A few seconds ticked by as his words sunk in,causing a sharp pain to lance through Lauren’s heart at the knowledge that the one person he truly would have desired to have this bond with was long since dead.

Lauren tamped down the crippling ache in her chest and tried to answer as rationally as she could under the circumstances. “I didn’t ask for this either, Professor Snape. But neither of us have a choice in the matter, so we need to sort this out.”

Snape mulled her words over and then visibly drew himself up, his composure slotting neatly back into place. “I am...concerned about the meaning behind it.”

Lauren waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t she stated, “That wasn’t an answer.”

Snape sighed and rubbed tiredly at his forehead. “No, it wasn’t. A bond like this should not exist between us, especially considering that you are, physically, a child.” He practically spat out the last word, his revulsion evident.

Lauren frowned hard at his words, at first wanting to parrot the usual diatribeof not being a child, but something else about what he had said started to seep into the recesses of her mind and begin to trouble her.

“So a magical bond is not formed between children then, but rather adults?”

Snape stilled, and she could discern his own discomfiture. Finally he gave a single nod of his head.

Lauren arched a brow. “Go on. Explain.”

Snape closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How do I explain this without you getting the wrong impression?”

“Try me,” Lauren stated evenly. “I do, after all, possess my adult mind.”

Snape opened his eyes and dropped his hand to lap, levelling her with a scathing glare. He then drew in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, making his nostrils flare. She could practically discern his internal struggle as he warred with himself about whether to answer her or not. “If the old tales are to be believed, a magical bond is a very rare occurrence, and is only formed between two...compatible people.”

“Two...compatible...people,” Lauren slowly stated, her mind whirring a mile a minute. The conclusion she came upon sent ice coursing through her veins. “So it is...what? A soul mate thingy. I thought you said it wasn’t!”

From this vantage point, Lauren could understand now why this bond was troubling Snape so much. It was highly unethical that a grown man be bonded to a child, a young teenager, especially considering how all of this could be misinterpreted.

But that was not all that was troubling Snape about this. His heart still very much belonged to Lily Evans, andhis guilt at having developed a bond with another would feel like the ultimate form of betrayal. Snape, for all his faults, was loyal to a fault, and had given Lily his heart a very long time ago. No other could replace her. Not even Lauren.

“No, Miss Ward,” Snape snapped sharply. “I told you not to get the wrong impression. I meant two people that are compatible magically.”

Lauren regarded him shrewdly for a few poignant moments. Outwardly he appeared cool and collected, but there was just something off about him. He was holding himself too stiffly and, if his almost expressionless features were anything to go by, he was Occluding heavily. Professor Snape was either outright lying, or omitting a hell of a lot of the actual truth.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” she pressed.

Snape stilled, almost becoming statue-like.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” she asked again, leaning forward in her seat, her movements sending her waves falling over her shoulder. “You’re leaving out a hell of a lot, Professor Snape. A bond is formed between two adults – not children – so that leads me to believe that there is a hell of a lot more to it than what you wish to tell me. Both morally and ethically. Andif it was just a bond between two magically compatible people, you wouldn’t be so troubled by it. So what is the actual truth? No bullshitting me this time.”

Snape’salready dark eyes grew a shade darker as his own anger rose to the surface. “What are you refusing to tell me, Miss Ward?”he countered, arching a superciliousbrow.

Lauren clenched her jaw and slumped back in her chair. They were at a stale mate once again, neither willing to budge on their stance.

“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me...” she snapped, starting to rise to her feet.

Snape blew out an air of exasperation. “I know that you wish to know more about the bond, Miss Ward, and I know that you don’t trust me -.”

“I do trust you,” Lauren stated firmly and without a second’s hesitation as she settled back into her chair. “I trust you more than you know.”

Snape paused, his eyes narrowing. Clearly, not very many people had ever told him that, and with conviction too. “Then I need you to trust me on this, Miss Ward. There is a reason why I am withholding the entire truth from you.”

There was something about his tone of voice, the silent yet urgent plea, that made her pause and really consider what he was saying.If this certain knowledge made Snape this ill at ease, she was sure she wasn’t going to like the answer either, one way or the other.

“How bad is it really?” she finally asked.

Snape swallowed thicklyand dropped his gaze. His discomfiture was answer enough for Lauren.

“Fair enough,” she said with a resigned huff. Even if she did want to know the answer – which she wasn’t so sure she did anymore – Snape would not budge and tell her. “Do you ever plan to tell me, though?”

“Not anytime soon, if I can help it,” he muttered, pressing his middle and index finger against his temple and massaging the spot. “And I must ask you to cease searching for the answer. I can assure you that you will not like what you learn. It is...unsettling.”

Lauren eyed him, his warning causing reluctance to settle within her. Finally she gave a nod of her head.

Appeased, Snape continued, “Now can you please tell me how this bond is affecting you, Miss Ward. It is imperative that I know.”

Lauren bit her bottom lip, clasping her hands in her lap at the sudden change of topic – a topic she had wanted to avoid altogether. “Um, let’s just say that I came to the realization not too long ago that it’s not the bond that is affecting me. Just...something else. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

It was Snape’s turn to frown at her words, and Lauren fervently prayed that he would not put two and two together.

_I need to distract him._

Her mind scrambled for a change of topic and quickly landed on one.

“About tonight...You were an ass. More so than usual.”

Snape glanced down and studied his clasped hands, his features neutral. “Simply put, you caught me at a bad time, Miss Ward. This is not...an easy time of year for me.” This statement was a lot coming from Snape.

“What is it about tonight...” Lauren asked and then trailed off as the answer came to her crystal clear clarity.

_Halloween...The anniversary of Lily’s death..._ _O_ _h bugger. _ _It’s n_ _o wonder he was _ _brooding in his study_ _. And I came along and made it so much _ _more _ _worse._

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, now unable to meet his gaze, which she could sense boring into her now that he realized she knew the truth.

A long, prolonged and uncomfortable silence ensued, Lauren studiously avoiding Snape’s gaze.

Finally he remarked dryly, “Well, we have a more pressing issue on our hands, Miss Ward, and I wish to discuss it.”

Lauren, grateful for the change of subject, glanced up. “Such as?”

Snape leaned forward in his armchair, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands in front of him. His glossy black hair fell like a gossamer curtain around his features, the stark black framing his pale face.

“You know the truth about the Chamber of Secrets.” This wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Lauren wondered where he was going with this.

Snape regarded her for another moment before asking, “Are you in any danger?”

Lauren blinked, taken aback by this uncharacteristic show of concern. “I...don’t know. I guess I’m in as much danger as the rest of the Muggle-borns here, though I will try and stay out of it all.”

This did not seem to appease Snape. “You have a knack for finding trouble, Miss Ward. Do you know how to protect yourself against whatever this is?”

Lauren debated about whether it was safe to tell him. Finally she replied, “Mirrors.”

Snape quirked a brow; this was clearly not an answer he had been expecting.

“Gazing directly at..._it _will cause certain death. Glimpsing the reflection, however, will petrify a person or animal.”

“The cat...”

“Saw the reflection of...this thing through the pool of water on the floor and thus was petrified,” Lauren explained, trying hard not to let slip as to what the monster actually was.

“Ah,” Snape mused, leaning back in his chair. Lauren was uncertain whether he had pieced together that they were now dealing with a Basilisk or not – Snape was a hard man to read at the best of times. “Do you have a mirror to carry around with you just in case?” he finally asked.

“Yes. It’s in my trunk, but I’ll get it out tonight and carry it on me at all times.”

Snape gave a nod of his head. “In the meantime, we have to wait until the Mandrakes have matured before I can begin brewing the Restorative Draught,” he muttered to himself.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that?” Lauren stated as she settled more comfortably in her chair. “Surely you can buy an adult Mandrake somewhere, or order an already-made potion. Why do we have to wait for these ones to mature before you can begin brewing the potion?”

Snape gave her a small, thin smile, and she noted the subtle change in his posture as he relaxed as he reverted to Professor mode.

“Mandrakes are rare and hard to come by, and only have a short life cycle, dying out once they have produced seedlings. Professor Sprout was very lucky to get her hands on a batch of them and, as such, will be breeding them to keep the school supplied with them throughout the coming years.”

“But surely potions have been made and can be purchased?” Lauren asked, her curiosity burning. She always did enjoy talking shop with him.

“No,” Snape stated simply. “The restorative properties of Mandrakes are only effective when used almost immediately, the potion only having a very short and almost non-existent shelf life. That is why we have to wait for the seedlings to mature into adulthood before we can make the Restorative Draught and administer it as soon as possible.”

_Well, that’s inconvenient..._

Lauren nodded in understanding and then perked up as an idea came to her. “Can I be there with you when you brew the draught? I really want to see how it’s made.”

Snape eyed her and then a slow, almost please smile curled his lips. “Of course.”

Lauren returned his smile, a warm, gushing sensation flooding her as the air now cleared between them and that their friendship was now reverting back to its usual form.

“Now I should point out that both you and Potter are going to be the subject of some interesting gossip for the foreseeable future,” Snape noted in all seriousness.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Lauren countered, unconcerned.

Snape regarded her for a moment and then rose to his feet, now standing before her like a dark spectre of the night. “I’ll see you Friday evening for our next lesson.”

Lauren, taking her cue, rose to her feet as well. “I’ll be there.”

She strode towards the door, but paused, her hand curled around the door handle. Uncertainty overcame her; their fight, as well as their reconciliation, still very fresh in her mind. Lauren didn’t want to say something that could be misconstrued as something more, or misunderstood in any way.

“Good night, Miss Ward,” Snape stated in his softly spoken voice that slithered along her skin.

Lauren glanced over her shoulder to see the Potion Master regarding her with a soft edge to his features, and a small smileplaying upon his lips.

A smile of her own graced her lips as she sensed that he was also as relieved as she was that they had made up.

“Good night, Professor Snape,” she murmured before exiting the room.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


As predicted, the following week Lauren was subjected to numerous and blatant stares, not to mention hushed whisperings that followed in her wake.

“Just ignore them,” Tracey cited as they strode down the corridor.

Lauren shot her a look. “Idle gossip has never bothered me, Tracey.”

“Idle gossip is one thing – being accused of murder is another.”

Lauren blew out a weary sigh. “For the last time, it was ink, not blood. And has anyone seen Peeves? I am so going to exorcise him when next I see him.”

“Isn’t that a form of murder?” Draco asked, suddenly having appeared next to Lauren as they made their way down to Transfiguration.

“You can’t kill a ghost, Draco,” Tracey chided.

“But if you exorcise it, are you actually killing killing it, like killing it permanently, or are you just sending the ghost elsewhere?”

Both Lauren and Tracey came to a halt, both eyeing Draco thoughtfully.

“What?” he asked with a shrug. “It’s a good question.”

“Yeah...it is. That’s why it’s surprising that it came from you,” Lauren stated.

“Hey!” Draco retorted with mock sullenness.

Lauren glanced over at Tracey and then back at Draco. “You should ask Tracey – she’s the brains of the group.”

“And what am I?” Draco inquired.

Lauren wasn’t quite sure when exactly it had happened, but Draco was now an honorary member of their little club, now having established himself as their fellow friend. His associations with Crabbe and Goyle were getting less and less as the days went by. And somehow, their friendship was working out quite well. Draco wasn’t as contemptuous as what she had originally thought, nor was he as vile as he portrayed himself to others, and Lauren had to wonder if it had something to do with being among friends who could give him the right guidance and leave a positive impact on him.

“Backup, in case anything happens to Tracey,” Lauren quipped.

“Gee, thanks,” Tracey muttered.

“You’re still my number one choice,” Lauren assured.

“Gee, thanks,” came Draco’s equally sarcastic reply as they resumed their trek to Transfiguration.

They passed through a few more corridors in companionable silence before Lauren turned to Draco and asked, “So tomorrow is your Quidditch match against Gryffindor. Nervous?”

That infamous Malfoy arrogance reared its ugly head as Draco lifted his chin and stated haughtily, “Why should I be concerned about playing against those buffoons? This is going to be easy. I’m so going to wipe that smug smirk off Potter’s face when we win the match.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tracey muttered, sounding anything but encouraging. “But do I really have to be there? I don't fancy sitting out in the cold watching a ball being tossed around.”

“If I have to go, then so do you,” Lauren stated firmly.

Draco gave them both a wide grin, knowing that there was no way they could, or would, back out of this now.

Saturday morning dawned, bringing with it the first Quidditch match of the season. Lauren and Tracey made their way down to the rapidly filling stadium, dark thunder clouds looming over the horizon and threatening to douse them all in a torrential downpour.

“Draco owes me big time for this,” Lauren muttered as she and Tracey found some seats.

Soon the match started, the Slytherin team zooming by in a hazy blur of green and silver on their new broomsticks, their speed unparalleled and causing the rest of the Gryffindor team toappear as though they were at a standstill.

“On the bright side, with those broomsticks this match should be over soon,” Tracey muttered as she kept glancing at the black clouds drawing nearer.

“The Snitch has to be caught first,” Lauren pointed out.

“Well, that should – what’s up with that Bludger?”

Lauren turned her attention back to the match and saw the tampered Bludger doggedly going after Harry. It was taking all of Harry’s skills to avoid it, and Lauren had to wonder where Dobby was hiding at as he tried to save/inadvertently kill Harry. His methods to protect the Chosen One left much to be desired.

As the game progressed, Lauren alternated between watching Draco fly, which she had to admit was quite impressive, and watching Harry be hounded by the Bludger. Soon it started to rain, fat heavy drops landing on their heads. Tracey, always prepared, opened up her emerald green umbrella trimmed with a fetching silver, and Lauren scooted closer to her friend, the two girls watching the match from the safety of their house-proud umbrella.

“That Bludger really has it out for Harry,” Tracey muttered.

“Yeah,” Lauren murmured in agreement.

Soon the whistle was blown, signalling a time-out. After a brief intermission, the game resumed, Harry valiantly dodging the ever persistent Bludger as he searched for the elusive Snitch.

Suddenly there was a collective gasp as Harry zoomed towards Draco, looking for all the world as though he was going to attack the other boy.

“What is he doing!” Tracey cried, covering her mouth with her hand.

“He’s spotted the Snitch,” Lauren moaned, her stomach dropping when she realized that Draco would never live this moment down. Logically, she knew this moment needed to happen, but she had been secretly rooting for Draco, even though he would have been insufferable in his gloating victory.

Sure enough, Harry made a wild snatch, his hand curling around the golden Snitch and narrowly missing Malfoy, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.

The stadium erupted into a roar of victorious cheer.

“Oh my,” Tracey bemoaned with a shake of her head. “Draco is not going to take this well.”

Draco did, indeed, look absolutely livid. But it was nothing compared to having to witness Marcus Flint yelling and berating a red-faced Draco in front of the entire school. Lauren’s heart went out to him in that moment.

“Come. Let’s go and wait for him and cheer him up,” Lauren urged.

“I don’t think anything is going to cheer him up after that,” Tracey pointed out.

About an hour later Draco stormed in the Slytherin Common room, his clothes mud splattered and soaked, and a thunderous look twisting his pale features. He paused when he spied Lauren and Tracey, who had decided to wait for him on the couches by the fireplace. The moment hung in the air as he waited with weariness for them to tease him or tell him off.

Lauren patted the seat next to her. “Come join us, Draco,” she said kindly.

Draco blinked, a look of uncertainty crossing his features.But coming to a decision, hecrossed the room and sat himself down next to Lauren with an audible squelch. Lauren and Tracey shared a look.

“So are you going to tell me what a loser I am?” he asked sullenly.

“No. I wanted to say that you flew really well today,” Lauren stated, clasping his shoulder.

“Yeah, but I didn’t even see the bloody Snitch right on top of me,” he grumbled. “Potter did, though, and ended up winning the match.”

Lauren studied the blonde boy next to her. Though he was clearly seething from his loss, there was no denying the hurt and shame simmering below the surface.

“I may not know much about Quidditch, Draco, but I watched you and I can assure you of this: you are en exceptional player. You are skilled and talented when it comes to the sport. Do not doubt yourself because of this one little setback.”

“But Potter still won,” he said, crossing his arms over his middle, his fair brows pulled down in a deep scowl.

Lauren threw Tracey a helpless look, feeling as though her words of comfort weren’t getting through to him.

“There will be other opportunities to win, Draco,” Tracey piped up. “And I promise that both Lauren and I will be there to see it, even though we detest watching the game. But we’ll be there every step of the way, that I can guarantee you. Right, Lauren?”

Lauren was immensely grateful for Tracey’s fitting words, for it had somehow brought a small smile to Draco’s face. She hastily nodded her head in agreement.

“You bet.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“And, on the bright side,” Lauren quipped, “Harry’s stuck having to regrow the bones in his arm.” Turning to Tracey, she added pointedly, “Still think Lockhart’s the greatest?”

Tracey had the grace to flush and look away, causing both Lauren and Draco to grin at her discomfiture.

Soon a comfortable silence descended upon them.

Tracey was the first the break the silence. “In the meantime, I’m still trying to figure out if exorcism is considered murder, considering a ghost is already dead.”

Draco burst into laughter and Lauren joined in. Tracey lowered her book enough for Lauren to spy the pleased smile on her face that she had managed to cheer their friend up.

She caught Lauren’s eye and gave her a wink. A sense of contentment flooded Lauren. She was surrounded by two people whom she now considered good friends. It was a stark contrast to her life from before, where she had little to no friends to speak of that she could turn to in times of need.

_This is not the life I asked for, but maybe it’s the one I needed._

As she watched her friends, Draco in particular, a thought occurred to her.

_Maybe this change isn’t for my benefit only... _


	28. Chapter 28

The news of Colin Creevey’spetrification spread through the school like a rampaging wildfire, as did wild speculation as to whom the true heir of Slytherin really was. Unsurprisingly enough, the spotlight was now being cast upon Harry and Lauren ever since the incident with the cat.

“Maybe you are the heir of Slytherin,” Draco mused over breakfast the following morning as he took a bite out of his pancakes. He chewed thoughtfully on his mouthful as heperused the morning paperwith an air of nonchalance.

Lauren glanced up sharply at his statement. Feeling her glare upon him, Draco turned his headand shot her his trademark smirk, his eyes twinkling in mischievous delight.

_The little prat really does enjoy riling people up..._

“Here, let me see that,” Lauren said, extending her hand in the direction of his newspaper and wiggling her fingers impatiently.

Draco hesitated for a brief moment but then handed it to her. Lauren took it from his hands, swiftly rolled the newspaper up, and then proceeded to smack him across the back of the head with it.

“Oi! What was that for?” Draco declared, clutching his head.

“That’s for being an idiot,” Lauren stated, handing him back the now slightly rumpled newspaper. “And how the hell did you come to that conclusion? You were with me when Colin was petrified. You know full well that there was no possible way I could have done it.”

A sly grin graced his features as he proceeded to smooth out the newspaper on the surface of the table in front of him. “I know that...these other idiots don’t, though,” he said, gesturingwith a sweep of his hand all the students of Hogwarts seated at their House tables. “It will boost my reputation if it seems that I’m cahoots with the Heir of Slytherin.”

Lauren stared at him and then lurched for the newspaper, but Draco was too fast and held it well out of her reach, a wide grin stretched upon his lips.

“As if anyone’s going to believe that crock of shit.”

“I don’t know,” Draco drawled, rubbing contemplatively at his chin, the newspaper still held away at arms length. “You crashed into the Great Hall last year, somehow managing to break through Hogwartsimpenetrable wards. You Stupefied three students with a single spell – which is almost unheard of. You went up against Quirrell, a far more advanced and highly skilled wizard than you, and survived.And then there’s also the fact that you happened to be close by when the cat was stupefied and the Chambers of Secrets was opened...What else am I missing?” Draco paused, his ice blue eyes glinting. “Oh yes!You’re also a Slytherin. That’s a good enough reason for everyone here to believe that you are, in fact, the Heir of Slytherin.”

Lauren, giving up on her struggle to get her hands on the newspaper, settled back in her seat. Draco eyed her, waiting for her to make another move for it, and then slowly lowered the paper, placing itonce more upon the surface of the table.

Lauren glared at him, but she had to admit that he had made a few very valid points.

“But you’re forgetting the fact that I’m a descendant of Bethany Ward. I’ve checked out my family tree, Draco, andnowhere did I see Salazar Slytherin’s nameamong my ancestors. I think I would notice something like that.”

“She has a point there, Draco,” Tracey piped up, her nose buried deep in the book she was hunched over.

“Again, nobody else knows that, Davis,” Draco remarked.

Tracey raised her head enough to peer at Draco, her brows slightly furrowed. “But you do.”

“True.” Draco practically thrummed with eager anticipation, which did not go unnoticed by the ever observant Tracey.

Tracey straightened up, her full attention now focused on Draco. “You know something, don’t you? Something about the Chamber of Secrets. Otherwise you would be asking Lauren outright if she is the heir instead of teasing her about it.”

Draco grinned and leaned forward, his arms folded in front of him upon the table. Both Tracey and Lauren followed suit, the trio huddled together as Draco explained conspiratorially. “This isn’t the first time the Chamber of Secrets has been opened.”

“What?” Tracey gaped.

Draco looked rather pleased by her shocked reaction. “It’s happened before. About fifty years ago.”

“How do you know?”

“My father told me,” Draco replied with an air of superiority.

“And does your father happen to have certain knowledge as to who has opened the Chambers again?” Lauren asked with an edge to her tone, thinking that Malfoy Senior was taking a lot of liberties by setting a monster loose in the same school that his only son was staying at. She most certainly did not approve, but she had to stay out of it and keep her mouth shut.

Draco paused and shot Lauren a shrewd look as he discerned her less than pleased expression. Lauren refused to break eye contact as she stared back at him.

Draco slowly straightened up. “No. He’s only told me to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it.”

“Uh-huh,” Lauren intoned. “And isn’t he concerned that a monster is roaming around the school and that you, his son, might be in danger?”

Draco scoffed. “I’m a pure-blood, Ward. I’m in no danger. It’s the Mudbloods who should be worried.”

Lauren cocked her head to the side, studying the boy in front of her. She was getting quite sick of all the blood purity nonsense he enjoyed spouting. “And what if I’m a Mudblood?” she asked quietly.

Draco’sbrows knitted together in confusion. Finally he replied, “But you’re not. You’re a Ward – there’s no Mudbloods staining your family tree, although you do have quite a few half-bloods mixed up in there.”

Lauren didn’t want to contemplate how Draco knew this information. It was probably news that had been passed down from his father who had taken it upon himself to learn all he could about the mysterious girl who had not only crashed through the roof, and wards, of Hogwarts castle, but was now also friends with his son.

“But what if I am?” she pressed. “What if I am a Mudblood, Draco? Would you be okay with the fact that I could be attacked at any moment?”

Tracey was glancing back and forth from one friend to the other, her expressive browneyes growing widerand wider at the building tension between them.

“What are you trying to tell me, Ward?” Draco asked slowly, his voice having dropped a notch.

Lauren blinked, and the moment was broken. “Nothing,” she stated with a strained smile as she pushed her plate to the side, her breakfast suddenly unappetizing. “I just wanted to give you something to think about.”

Thankfully, the school bell chose that moment to ringand the Great Hall erupted in a crowded shuffle as students prepared to make their way to the first lesson of the day. Lauren was relieved by this distraction, and used the opportunity to leap to her feet and make a hasty exit, Tracey following closely behind. She had come very close to revealing her true blood status to Draco, and that would not have been good, especially to a blood-purity fanatic such as himself.

Draco decided to hang back, but Lauren could feel his eyes boring into her as he mulled over her words, clearly disconcerted by her implications.

By the time they had made it to the History of Magic classroom, though, Draco was back to his usual self and had joined her and Tracey, having decided that Lauren was merely messing with his head and it was best the ignore what she had said and carry on as usual.

But Lauren knew the truth.If the school records in that book Dumbledore had shown her last year was anything to go by, then she was in very real danger of the Basilisk.

She reached into her robe pocked, her fingers curling around the slim handle of the hand mirror she now carried with her at all times.

_This is the only thing that can protect me against certain death now__, _she mused with dread settling like a heavy weight in her stomach. _A simple, non-magical mirror.._.

This was her only form of protection. She may as well be at the mercy of the Fates, if there was such a thing.

_There’s a Basilisk, and mermaids, and dragons. Not to mention magic. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Fates did exist here..._

That thought held very little comfort.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


December rolled around, bringing with it a generous amount of snow, as well assub-zero temperatures that seeped right through the stone walls of the castle, especially that of the dungeons. There seemed to be no escape from the frigid cold and it was not unusual to see most students bundled up from head to toe.

Lauren stood huddled in front of the fireplace in Snape’s living room, waiting for the Potion Master to arrive and begin their duelling lesson. She didn’t dare go down to his private laboratory, which would surely be an ice box right now and, instead, chose to remain close to the only source of heat in this room.

The door slammed open, rattling on its hinges as it rebounded from the wall, and Lauren whirled around to see a dark, scowling and very formidable Professor Snape storming into the room, his black robes billowing around him and hinting at his current mood, which was no doubt thunderous.

He seemed unsurprised that Lauren was here in his personal chambers, and marched right past her, his focus intent on reaching the cabinet on the other side of the room. He flung open the door and retrieved a bottle of Firewhisky and crystal tumbler before marching over to his armchair without a word said to her.

“Bad day?” she inquired as she watched him settled into his chair and pull off the stopper of the bottle before pouring a generous amount of the amber liquid into the glass.

His sharp gaze flickered up to hers, causing her heart to stutter and restart painfully. These past few weekswere proving to be almost impossible as she vainly tried to control her growing feelings for Severus Snape, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. It hurt every time their gazes met across the room. It was excruciating being in close proximity to him, that familiar scent of herbs and parchment washing over her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. It was pure torture every damn time, because she knew that nothing more could ever come of it. Ever.

Severus would never reciprocate her feelings. His heart belonged to another. Always would. And even if it didn’t, there was still the annoying fact that she was stuck in a child’s body. Snape would never cross that line. Never. To him it would be repulsive to even entertain the idea of such a thing. Either way, these feelings were very much one-sided and always would be. Lauren was just going to have to learn to deal with it.

“You were there,” he growled before downing his drink in one gulp and refilling it again, this time almost to the brim. “You tell me.”

Snape, of course, was referring to the disastrous lesson where Potter had caused an epic distraction so that Hermione could raid Snape’s personal storage closet for the ingredients needed to brew the Polyjuice Potion.

Lauren watched as he placed the bottle down on the table beside his armchair. “Yeah, that was quite a spectacular...accident,” she remarked nonchalantly, making her way over to the loveseat. Slyly, in passing, she tried to snatch up the bottle, but a sharp swat to her hand quickly dissuaded her from attempting any further retrieval of said bottle.

“Ow! That hurt,” she exclaimed, rubbing the back of her stinging hand. “I swear you must practise daily or something, because you have a real knack for inflicting pain.”

Snape ignored her remark and instead made one of his own. “I noticed that the Swelling Solution somehow managed to avoid landing on you.”

“That’s because I cast a fairly decent Shield Charm,” she replied. Lauren had spied the moment when Harry had retrieved the firework that would ultimately cause mayhem, and had quickly noped out of having any part of her body engorged by the Swelling Solution they were brewing. Unfortunately, Draco and Tracey had both been hit with it, Draco suffering a rather gargantuan nose and Tracey’s head swelling to twice its size.

“You knew this was going to happen?”

“Of course,” Lauren replied flippantly as she settled into the plush cushioning of the loveseat. “And I took precautions.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “And was there a good reason why you chose not to warn me.”

“Yup,” she remarked, popping the ‘p’.

Snape was silent for a few moments, clearly fuming. “It was Potter who set off the firecracker, wasn’t it?” he finally asked.

“You know it was. I could see by the way you were glaring at him that you suspected him.” Lauren could still picture the look of pure venom Snape had levelled Harry with – it was a look she never wanted directed at her. “But you know I can’t tell you any more than that.”

Snape growled in frustration, his frown still very much pronounced.

“So...are we going to practise?” Lauren asked in an attempt to distract him.

Snape sighed the sigh of a truly weary soul and placed his tumbler down on the side table beside his chair with a _clunk._ Then he rose to his feet in a fluid, graceful movement, the Firewhisky having little to no effect on him.

“You had better have something spectacular planned to humiliate that imbecile otherwise known as Professor Lockhart, otherwise I will consider all these lessons to have been a complete waste,” he grumbled as he stared down his nose at her.

Lauren gave him a coy smile. “Oh, I think between you and I, we’ll manage to have a bit of fun with the moron just fine.”

Snape regarded her for a moment, his features still set in a stony mask. Then a slow smile crept onto his lips, making his obsidian eyes dance with an anticipatory light. It caused a very inappropriate fluttery feeling to ripple in the pit of Lauren’s stomach; a sensation she had to hastily quell.

“I look forward to it,” he drawled. “Now, there are still a few pointers that I think we need to go over. The dunderhead wants to start the Duelling Club next week, so I think it’s best that I prepare you as best as I can.”

Lauren nodded, rising to her feet.

“I know you’re eager to have a go at him, but I would like to have first dibs in teaching him a lesson or two,” Snape remarked as he marched over to the door that led down to his laboratory.

Lauren grinned as the image of Snape knocking Lockhart flat on his arse sprang to mind. A giggle escaped her lips and Severus glanced over his shoulder at her, a brow raised in silent question.

“Oh, I think you’re really going to make him regret ever asking you to help him. I can’t wait to witness it firsthand,” she explained as she strode past him as he held the door open for her.

“Then I’ll try not to disappoint,” he said, his dark promise following behind her and sending an illicit shiver coursing through her body. When Snape made a promise, he kept it. It didn’t help though, that he made it sound so seductive.

_I so doomed, _she thought. _I don’t know how much longer I can control these feelings, but I have to. I have no other choice. But, goddammit, he isn’t making this easy. And the worst part is that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it..._

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The following week a notice was placed on the board by the Entrance Hall announcing the start of the Duelling Club, which was to be held that evening in the Great Hall.

For the rest of the day there was nothing but excited talk about the duelling lessons that were to be taught.

“Are you going?” Tracey inquired as they sat at one of the tables in the Slytherin Common room, finishing up their impossibly long Potions’ homework.

“Oh yes,” Lauren stated as she scrawled down the last paragraph of her essay.

There was a pause from the other girl. “You’re up to something.”

Lauren glanced up, giving her friend what she hoped was a passable look of innocence. “What makes you say that?”

Tracey levelled her with a look that clearly suggested that she was not fooled. “Your tone suggests that you know something...or are planning something. And the fact that you’re trying to hide it means that it’s not going to be good.”

“Oh it’s going to be good,” Lauren stated, a Cheshire Cat grin springing unbidden to her lips.

“For you, maybe,” Tracey muttered. “I’d bet is not going to be much fun for someone else.”

Lauren’s grin widened. Tracey really did know her too well. But she wasn’t about to admit that Lockhart was going to be on the receiving end of her little mischief. Somehow she didn’t think Tracey would approve.

“Maybe. Now let’s finish our homework otherwise it’s not going to be much fun for us when we have to face Snape’s wrath.”

That evening they made their way down to the Great Hall, Draco walking casually between Lauren and Tracey and whistling merrily to himself.

“I wonder who is going to be teaching this Duelling Club?” Tracey mused.

“Lockhart,” Draco replied immediately.

“Really?” Tracey’s eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree at this news, and Lauren was tempted to reach over and slap some sense into the girl.

“And Professor Snape,” Draco continued, a smirk curling his lips as he glanced sideways to viewTracey’s reaction.

Tracey gaped, clearly shocked, and then spluttered, “What?! Snape’s going to kill him!”

“Oh I do hope so,” Draco drawled.

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Tracey snapped. “But seriously, Snape is going to murder him.”

“That is the general idea, Tracey,” Lauren muttered. “And I, personally, am looking forward to watching it.”

“You knew?!”

“Of course I knew. What did you think I was so happy about earlier on?” Lauren retorted. “It certainly wasn’t about writing an essay on the properties of Horned slugs.”

Draco snickered beside her. Tracey shot them both a scathing glare before huffing irritably, and she promptly ignored them the rest of the trek to the Great Hall.

Upon arrival, they found the Great Hall completely devoid of the usual House tables and benches. Instead, a long golden stage had now been placed in the centre of the room, no doubt at Lockhart’s suggestion. Lauren could not picture Snape picking out anything golden. Black was his go-to colour of choice.

The Great Hall was quickly filling up withstudents, their wands clutched tightly in their fisted hands as they waited eagerly for the duelling session to begin. Excited babbling echoed throughout the now hollow room, and the trio made their way closer to the stage.

Tracey raised herself on her tippy-toes and craned her neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lockhart. Her disappointment was evident when it was obvious that her crush had not shown up yet. No doubt he wanted to make a grand entrance.

“I don’t know what you’re so eagerabout,” Lauren muttered. “You’re about to watch Lockhart get his arse handed to him.”

Draco chuckled beside her. “On the bright side, maybe Snape will just leave enough pieces for you to keep as a souvenir, Davis.”

Tracey’s head whipped around and she glared daggers at Malfoy junior. Lauren discreetly took a step back, recognizing the dangerous glint in those chocolate brown eyes that forewarned that Draco was about to get the hexing of his life. He may now have become part of their group, but there was no way Lauren was going to step in and get involved if Tracey decided to retaliate. Tracey was quiet and it took a lot to get her temper going, but once there Lauren was sure it was a sight to behold.

_It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for..._

Lockhart chose that moment to strut onto the stage, resplendent in his brilliant white and goldenrobes that perfectly enhanced his wavy locks and blindingly white teeth as he grinned widely down at his gathered audience.

“Gather round! Gather round!” he called out. “Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Lauren zoned out as Lockhart proceeded to prattle on about himself, but her attention was immediately at full alert when Snape strode onto the stage, his black robes swirling around him like an ominous premonition of doom.

_Oh, this is going to be good! _Lauren thought with gleeful anticipation of what was to come next, her focus now intently trained on the formidable adversary that Lockhart had no idea he was now facing.

Snape and Lockhart now faced each other, one light and the other dark, and in complete stark contrast with one another. Snape’s black eyes glinted with malicious promise and Lauren knew that she never wanted that particular look trained on her. She had to wonder how Lockhart was not quivering in his fancy leather boots. Any person with a bit of common sense would have run the other way by now.

“Oh, no,” Tracey moaned, anxiousness tinting her voice as she, too, could foretell what was about to happen. “I can’t watch.”

“You have to,” Lauren stated as she grabbed Tracey’s wrists,halting the girl from covering her eyes with her hands. “This is going to be brilliant!”

“No, it’s not,” Tracey bemoaned.

Snape and Lockhart bowed to each other, Lockhart with flourish and Snape stiffly, before swiftly turning on their heels and taking a few paces back before turning around and facing each other again. Snape snapped into the duelling stance, his poise rigid and his wand now withdrawn and pointed squarely at Lockhart. Lockhart quickly mimicked his movements.

“As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spell. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course,” Lockhart explained jovially.

“Pity,” Draco muttered.

“Shut up!” Tracey hissed.

“One...Two...Three!” Lockhart counted down and Lauren swore the entire room held their collective breaths.

Snape, his reflexes jarringly quick, raised his wand above his head and cried ‘Expelliarmus’ as he brought his wand back down. A dazzling flash of scarlet burst forth from the end of his wand and Lockhart was hit squarely in the chest before he even had had time to raise his own wand. Lauren watched with morbid fascination as Lockhart was blasted back several feet into the air, crashingagainst the opposite wall where he slidto the floor in a crumpled heap.

Lauren couldn’t contain herself and cheered loudly, clapping her hands together and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with enthusiasm. Draco joined in with equal gusto, their wide grins identical mirror images of each other, and soon the rest of the Slytherins joined in. Tracey, on the other hand, had her mouth covered with her hands, her eyes wide with dawning horror.

“Is he dead?”

“Nah, we wouldn’t be that lucky,” Lauren said, having to raise her voice to be heard above the din of all the cheering and clapping.

Snape’s obsidian gaze flickered towards them and a shadow of a pleased smirk fluttered across his pale features as his gaze settled upon Lauren. She gave him two big thumbs up, her grin impossibly wide, and that warm, fuzzy sensation uncoiled in the pit of her stomach when he inclined his head towards her in silent acknowledgement.

Lockhart rose unsteadily to his feet, his usually coiffed waves now a frazzled mess. Draco snickered at the sight, earning a sharp elbow to the side from Tracey.

‘Oh come on, Davis. You have to admit, that was brilliant!” Draco said.

“No, it wasn’t!” she snapped back. “Professor Lockhart could have been seriously hurt.”

“The only thing that is hurt is his pride. I suspect Snape was going easy on him, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone stand right now,” Lauren commented, wondering how much restraint Snape had had to exercise in that moment. She suspected that Dumbledore had warned him to behave himself.

“Well, there you have it,” Lockhart declared, tottering back onto the stage, his movements still somewhat disjointed. “A Disarming Charm. An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape. But if you don’t mind me saying so, it was obvious what you were about to do.” Lauren snorted in disbelief. This guy was absolutely unbelievable. “If I had wanted to stop you it would have only been too easy...” Lockhart trailed off as he discerned the quickly darkening and very ominous look Snape was levelling him with.

“Perhaps,” Snape gritted out through clenched teeth, and Lauren suspected it was taking every ounce of his willpower not to cast another and more dubious spell at the other man, “it would conductive to demonstrate a Shield Charm.” Snape paused in dramatic and falsely contemplative thought. Then a slow smirk curled his lips as he eyed Lockhart. “I have an ideal candidate who who would be most eager to partner up with you for thisdemonstration.”

“Ah, yes. An excellent idea!” Lockhart enthused, returning once more to his usual egocentric and insufferable self. “Yes, I think a demonstration of the Shield Charm would be excellent. Who do you have in mind?”

Snape’s smirk broadened, making his feature morph into that of sardonic malevolence, and Lauren had to wonder how Lockhart could be that dense that he did not see the trap he was walking right into.

Suddenly Severus’ dark gaze cut across the room and landed on Lauren, and with a swift nudge of his head he silently ordered her to step forth and take her place on the stage.

Lauren gave a single nod back and withdrew her wand as she made her way towards them. The sea of students parted for her, forming a solid wall of black on either side. Hushed mutterings followed in her which, which she resolutely ignored.

Lockhart's smile faded like a wilting flower as shestepped onto the stage, and he started to shake his head in refusal. It was no secret that Lauren held very little love for him.

“Uh...I don’t think...That is to say...”

“Miss Ward will be merely demonstrating the Shield Charm,” Snape cut in smoothly, his tone lustrous like spunsilk. Lauren was reminded of a spider spinning his web in preparation of trapping his victim. “I see no harm in a little demonstration.”

Lockhart closed his mouth. He was not please but he could not back out now. He was, after all, supposed to be teaching this class and was now trapped in Severus’ web.

Lockhart plastered a broad smile upon his face, flashing those pearly whites once more. “Yes. Of course. I don’t see the harm in a little demonstration.

“Excellent,” Snape practically purred. He glanced down at Lauren and gave a single nod of his head in encouragement. He then turned swiftly on his heel but before he strode away in a billow of black, he quiet words floated back for her ears only. “Make me proud.”

Lockhart and Lauren now faced each other, Lockhart eyeing her warily while Lauren stared blankly back at him.

“Ready, Miss Ward?” Lockhart asked, his voice somewhat strained.

Lauren drew in a deep breath and then raised her wand, effectively casting the Shield Charm. Lockhart’s eyes widened slightly at the fact that she, a second-year, knew how to cast such a spell.

“Ready,” she affirmed, her tone steady.

Lockhart hesitated for a brief moment and then he raised his wand. Lauren concentrated fiercely on holding the charm and her efforts paid off as the spell he cast bounced innocently off her shield. It was all rather anticlimactic.

Lockhart straightened and turned to address the room. “Excellent! As you can see, that was a Shield Charm. Needs more work...”

Lauren chosen his moment of distraction to swiftly cancel her shield charm and cast a spell of her own at Lockhart. It was a dirty move, but Lauren was known to fight dirty, and Snape had advised to to do as much.

The indigo hued light hit him right in the middle of his back and Lockhart was sent sprawling to the floor, his wand clattering noisily from his hand onto the stone floor.

“As everyone has no doubt learned,” Snape interjected as he came to stand beside Lauren, “it is imperative that you never take your eyes off of your opponent.”

Lockhart heaved himself to his feet and the entire room gasped aloud at the sight. For there, sprouting from his bottom, was a spectacular plume of peacock feathers, fanned out in all its vibrant glory.

A stunned pause followed and if Lauren hadn’t been standing so close to Snape, she would have missed his words entirely. “Nice.” That was high praise indeed coming from him.

“What?” Lockhart asked, spinning around in a full circleas he tried to see what everyone was gaping at.

Impulsively, Lauren strode up to him and yanked free one of the feathers, earning a sharp, high-pitched yelp from the Professor.

He spun around to face her and Lauren flashed him a wide and purely vindictive grin as she held up the feather for him to see. “Thank you. I needed a new quill.”

Lockhart’s eyes widened as dawning realization hit him, and he glanced over his shoulder at the plumage fanned out behind him. Henow resembled the prancing peacock he often emulated.

Lauren turned on her heel and skipped off the stage, the congregated students parting and giving her a wide berth as she passed through them. When she reached her waiting friends - Tracey gaping at her like a fish out of water and Draco flashing her a wide grin accompanied by a wink - she handed Tracey the offensive feather.

“There! Don’t say I don’t think about you,” she muttered, now turning her attention once more to the stage.Snape’s penetrative gaze was trained on her, watching her every move, butLauren discerned the slight softness to his usually hard eyes that indicated he was very pleased with her at the moment.

Then Severus abruptly turned away and strode towards the peacock-Lockhart who was now spinning around and around and was making sounds of distress at his current infliction. Snaperaised his wand and cast the counterspell, instantly vanishing the feathers.

“See? Nothing permanent,” Snape remarked as he turned away in obvious disgust. Lauren saw his lipsmoving though, and thought he may have uttered the word ‘Pity’ under his breath.

Lockhart, now free of the spectacular plumage, visibly calmed down and after a few moments gave an awkward cough. “Yes. Yes...” Another cough and then he was once more back to hisusual annoying self. “Yes! I think that’s enough demonstrating. Maybe it’s time to pair you all up. Professor Snape, would you like to help me?”

Lauren was paired up with Tracey, while Snape, through some vindictive agenda, paired Draco and Harry together. The animosity between the two boys hung like a heavy weighted curtain in the air, palpable to all those nearby.

Lockhart had them practising disarming each other to begin with, but to say the session was disastrous was an understatement. Soon more questionable spells were being cast, especially between Harry and Draco, and Lauren used these opportunities to discreetly shoot spells of her ownat Lockhart, causing the wizard to yelp out in pain as the spells hit him. It took every ounce of her willpower not to burst out laughing when she saw Lockhart instinctively glance over his shoulder each time to make sure he hadn’t been inflicted with feathers sprouting out of his buttocks once more.

She caught Snape’s eye on a few occasions, and by the way he was almost smiling foretold that he knew full well what she was doing. But he remained silent and let her continue with her task of tormenting the other man.

It wasn’t long before things were getting out of hand between Harry and Draco.

“I think maybe it’s best to concentrate on blocking spells instead,” Lockhart declared with exasperation. “Let’s have a volunteer pair – Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?”

“A bad idea,” Snape interjected smoothly as he glided over to Lockhart, his treads silent and cat-like. “Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest of spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a match box.”

Neville's round face turned a shade of pink at the insult, but Lauren had to agree with Snape on this. Neville, though he would prove to be an exceptional wizard later on, was right now a walking disaster.

“How about Potter and Malfoy?” Snape suggested, a twisted smile curling his lips.

“Excellent idea!” Lockhart agreed, motioning for the two selected boy to come up on stage.

Lockhart gave Harry some obviously useless pointers before flouncing off. Snape, on the other hand, was bent at the waist, his hands clasped behind his back ashe whispered something in Draco’s ear. The young Malfoy grinned slyly at the suggestion, and Lauren’s eyes narrowed for she knew what was coming. There was a reason that Snape was suggesting this particular pairing and well as this particular spell, and she had to wonder ifSnape was staring toharbour suspicions about the Horcruxes. Or maybe he just wanted to test out the theory that Harry might be the heir of Slytherin. She would have to ask him later, not that he would be forthcoming with her, though.

Draco and Harry faced each other, each of their faces set in equal masks of defiant glares. Lauren gnawed on her bottom, anticipating the scene that was about to unfold before her.

And then, as predicted, Draco cast the spell Severus had slyly suggested, sending a large black snake shooting out of the end of his wand and causing it to land heavily at Harry’s feet in a coiled heap. The snake raised itself up, hissing and spitting, its poisoned fangs bared and ready to strike.

The rest of the events unfolded in a panicked haze, and the snake, now enraged by Lockhart’s failure of a spell to vanquish it, slithered towards Justin, raising itself up and readying to attack.

Lauren watched in morbid fascination as Harry stepped forward and hissed out the garbled language otherwise known as Parseltongue. It sounded so foreign and unnatural to her ears, almost disorientating.The snake halted in its attack, anda stunned silence descended upon the room.

Tracey, being the first to break out of her stupor, hissed out of the corner of her mouth, “He’s a Parselmouth!”

“Obviously,” Lauren muttered back distractedly, her attention rather focused on Snape who, at this very moment, was staring at Harry with calculated shrewdness brimming in his dark narrowed eyes. His clenched jaw and taut lines of his features were a clear indication that he was disconcerted by these turn of events.

“What are you playing at?!” a wide-eyed and rather pale Justin Finch-Fletchleyshrieked.

Confusion washed over Harry’s features and Snape chose that moment to step forward and vanish the snake in a puff of smoke. The whole hall broke out in hushed murmurings, and it wasn’t long before Ron and Hermione dragged Harry out of the room and away from the wild speculation that was now going to follow Harry’s every waking move.

“But...does that mean that Potter might be the heir of Slytherin?” Tracey asked, abject shock still evident on her features.

“I don’t know,” Lauren lied. Then she flashed Tracey a too-bright grin. “But at least everyone will stop thinking that I am the bloody Heir now.”

Draco pushed his way through the crowd and came to join the two girls, his features set in that of pinched agitation. The revelation that Potter was a Parselmouth did not settle too well with the boy.

“That didn’t go quite according to plan, did it?” Lauren mused aloud.

His frown deepened. “No, it didn’t. Because I really don’t like the idea that Potter might be Salazar Slytherin’s heir. That would just be...wrong!” he spat out.

“He might not be,” Lauren pointed out.

“But don’t you think it’s all a bit coincidental that around the same time the Chamber of Secrets is opened, the truth about Potter being a Parselmouth comes out,” Tracey mused, thrusting her hands deep into her robe pockets and no doubt protectively clutching her new Lockhart peacock feather quill. “Everyone knows that Salazar Slytherin and his descendants were Parselmouths.”

“No, Potter is not the heir!” Draco stated firmly. He was stubbornly refusing to accept the fact that his arch enemy could somehow possibly be related to the founder of his beloved Slytherin house. It was almost blasphemous in his mind.

“But it’s a possibility,” Tracey pressed. Turning to Lauren, she asked. “Don’t you think so?”

Lauren snorted. “Potter? A closeted Muggle-born hater? One of his best friends is Muggle-born, Tracey, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Mudblood,” Draco corrected.

“Name calling is so childish, Draco. If you’re going to insult someone, be more creative than that,” Lauren chided.

Draco rolled his eyes skywards. “Fine. Whatever. So you don’t think he’s the heir?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Good,” Draco muttered. “But now the big question is, who is?”

Lauren had to bite her tongue. _God, __knowing the truth and __not being able to reveal __it__ is damn hard._

Just as they were turning away to leave the Great Hall, her eyes met the stark black ones of Severus Snape’s. He arched a questioning brow, almost as though he were silently asking, ‘_Was this meant to happen?’_

Lauren gave a small, single nod of her head and turned to follow her friends, but not before she glimpsed the troubled look that fluttered across his features before he carefully masked his face into that of neutrality.

Late that night Lauren snuck through the secret portrait that led to Snape’s office, clutching her fuzzy bathrobe tightly around her to ward off the damp cold that seemed to permanently penetrate these walls. She knew she needed to speak with Snape, for in that split second earlier on today he had looked truly disturbed, and she could not shake the image from her mind. And, truthfully, she wanted an excuse to see him.

His office was devoid of his presence so Lauren made her way to the door that led to his personal chambers instead and openedit without knocking. Normally, this would have earned a vicious hex from the bristly Potion Master, who was fiercely protective over his privacy, but he was so preoccupied in his pacing of the room that he did not notice Lauren’s entrance.

Lauren observed him for a few moments, noting the deep crease between his brows as he frowned to himself, clearly lost in his tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m surprised you haven’t hexed me yet,” she finally mused aloud when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to acknowledge her.

“I felt you pass through my wards. I merely allowed you entrance,” Snape stated without halting in his pacing.

“Which means that you wanted to talk to me,” Lauren pointed out.

Snape halted abruptly and glanced over his shoulder at her, scowling. Lauren was fast learning that the fact that she could read him better than others didn’t settle too well with him.

He tore his penetrative gaze away from hers and glowered at a spot on the floor. “Is Potter the heir of Slytherin?”

“No.”

“I thought as much,” he muttered, his rigid posture relaxing somewhat.

“But you’re starting to guess that there’s something more going on,” Lauren stated. She didn’t step further into the room, unsure of her welcome, especially factoring the lateness of the night and Severus’ current mood.

Snape slowly raised his head and shifted his body so that he was now facing her. “Is there more going on?”

“Yes.”

Snape growled in frustration and rubbed at the spot between his brow. “It would be so easy just to extract the information from your mind...”

“And then what?” she asked cautiously. _Where was this coming from?_

“I could alter things...”

“But you won’t.”

“Are you so sure of that?”

Lauren stilled. Snape was very much a grey character when it came to the fine line of what was right and what was wrong. He wouldn’t hesitate to cross the moral restrictions that often held others back if he thought it could be beneficial, but at the same time he possessed a high moral compass that would not allow him to go too far.He abided by his own personal code of conduct with strict rigidity. But how far he was willing to go, Lauren had no idea, and that scared her sometimes. It made him unpredictable.

“No. But with this, I don’t think you will.”

“Maybe I’m tempted to do so. Maybe I’m tempted to extract the knowledge you possess and use it to win this war altogether and be done with it.”

Lauren tilted her head. What had gotten into Snape to even consider going against Albus’ wishes that they do not interfere with future events? Her eyes narrowed as she discerned the buffering waves of agitation roiling off of him. There was only one person (well, besides her), that could infuriate Severus to this extent.

“What has Dumbledore done to make you consider rebelling against him?”

His whole expression instantly soured. “Nothing.” The lie hung heavy in the air.

“Don’t lie to me,” Lauren snapped. Coming to a decision, she closed the distance between them. “Something has happened because in all the time that I have been here, you have never once contemplated extracting that information from me. Not once have you hounded me for informationregarding the future. Because you know how dangerous it could be. So what has happened?”

Snape eyed her, his black orbs glinting with the raging fire pitted within him. Then he let out a deep sigh and tore his gaze away. “It hasn’t even begun and already I am so tired of it. I just want all of this to be over with.”

Lauren’s heart constricted within her chest as she thought about how Snape’s torment hadn’t even begun yet. His sorrows were only just starting.

_There is so_ _ much is he going to have to suffer through. _ _T_ _here _ _will n_ _ever be any peace for him _ _from here on out_ _. _

She edged closer to him and Snape’s sharp gaze snapped up to hers as he eyed her wearily. Lauren tried vainly to still the wildly and erratic beating of her heart, and ignore the slight tremble in her hands as she carefully constructed her Occlumency shields into place. But it wasn’t easy as the familiar scent of herbs and parchment washed over her. Tentatively she reached out and brushed her hand against his. His whole body stiffened, almost as though she had struck him, and Lauren was about to pull back when he suddenly grasped at her hand like a lifeline, his fingers intertwining with her own. There was almost a sense of desperation to this action.

_How long has it been since he’s had a hand to hold? How long has it been since a he’s had a comforting touch extended towards him?_

“Tell me what happened,” she implored as she stared up at him.

He held her hand for a moment longer and then, with a sigh, he released his hold on her. “I informed the Headmaster what happened today,” he stated, taking a step back. The distance between them suddenly felt like a gaping void.

“And?” Lauren was trying hard to ignore how cold and empty her hand now felt.

“As usual he will not reveal his true thoughts on the matter,” Snape said bitterly. “He still does not trust me, even after all the vows I have made. Even after I have proven myself.”

Lauren studied him, really studied him. She could discern the hurt simmering just below the surface, even though he was diligently working on maintaining an expressionless facade.

_He will always be the villain __to others__. __He will never be trust__ed__ and_ _n__o-one will ever __be willing to__ give him a chance. But I __know the true person beneath all those layers__..._

Lauren, going purely on instinct, reached out and took his hand in her own once again, clutching more firmly and silently letting him know she wasn’t about to let go. She wasn’t going to allow him to go through this alone. Snape slowly raised his head and stared at her, a vast ocean of guarded emotions swirling within those dark pools.

_It would be so easy to become lost in his eyes..._

Lauren blinked back her thoughts and composed herself, Snape watching her reaction with shrewdness. “Personally, I think Dumbledore is a manipulative bastard,” she stated, earning an arched brow from the Potion Master. “But I also think that he is purposely withholding things from you not because he doesn’t trust you, but rather to safeguard this information from Her Royal Highness when he returns.”

A frown furrowed his dark brows. “Her Royal Highness?”

“My new nickname for Voldy-boy,” she explained with a shrug.

Snape’s eyes widened fractionally at her audacity, but then the corners of his lips started twitching before a low chuckle escaped his mouth. It was such a foreign sound coming from him, yet Lauren had to admit that there was a deep, rich quality to it, and she enjoyed hearing it.

After a moment he sobered. “Only you, Miss Ward. Only you,” he muttered with a small shake of his head.

Lauren decided to continue. “I don’t agree with the fact that Dumbledore is keeping you in the dark, Professor Snape. I, personally, would trust you with this information.”

Snape eyed her. No matter how many times she assured him that she did, indeed, trust him, he would always doubt her words.

_Not many have placed their trust in you, Severus. And their mistrust will only grow, even when you are literally putting your life on the line to ensure their safety..._

“But if I were in Dumbledore’s position, I would also keep the information from you.”

The look in his eyes hardened and she hastened on.

“But only to keep you safe.”

_Oh shit! I’ve said too much!_

A slight frown marred his brows and after a few seconds had ticked by, Snape let out a regretful sigh. “Once this war has begun, Miss Ward, neither one of us will be safe. I know what my role entails and I am willing to accept the outcome if only to ensure that the wizarding world is freed from...his tyranny.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest at his statement, tears pooling in her eyes at the knowledge of what fate held in store for Severus Snape. But she quickly blinked away the tears. Snape would not appreciate them, especially coming from her. And she was half afraid that her tears would give away her true feelings for him. She really didn’t have the energy for one of his cutting, scathing remarks. Lauren didn’t think her poor heart could handle it right now.

Snape yanked his hand free of hers, and Lauren knew that the moment was over. He was reverting back to the haughty, cruel Potion Master who let nobody within the impenetrable walls he had erected.

“Now, I’m going to have a drink and you’re going to go back to bed, Miss Ward.”

Lauren mentally sighed.

_It’s always one step forward, two steps back with him._

“Not going to share your drink?” she decided to ask instead, knowing full well what his answer was going to be.

“No.”

“You suck. You know that, right?” she muttered with very little heat. This had now become a running gag between them.

Snape merely smirked at her, a light dancing in those pools of black. Sensing that he was now in a better mood, Lauren decided it was time to leave and try and get some sleep.

As she reached the portrait, his softly spoken words floated back to her. “I was quite proud of your performance with Lockhart today. I think it is a memory that will stay with me for a very long time.”

She glanced back over her should to see him smiling softly at her. In this moment he seemed younger, less troubled. She adored these rare moments when he wasn’t weighed down with the burdens of his obligations and the vows he had made.

Then he nudged his head sharply, indicating that it was time for her to leave.

She shook her head and smiled. “Goodnight, Professor Snape.”

She chuckled to herself when his parting remark floated back to her as she stepped through the tunnel. “Goodnight, you impudent girl.”

Some would have been insulted, but not Lauren. She was so used to it by now that she almost considered them words of affection. And maybe for Severus Snape it was.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. I'm still struggling to work through some personal issues. Some days are better than others.
> 
> I just wanted to thank everyone for your patience and understanding, as well as your continued support with this story. Please be assured that I have no intentions of abandoning it.

A raging snowstorm swept through the Highlands in which the castle of Hogwarts was nestled in, the swirling snow causing near white-out conditions that continued well into the following day. Waist-high drift banks made it near impossible to venture outside, and Herbology lessons were cancelled for the day, possibly the rest of the week.

Following the tail winds of the frigid and ferocious storm came another attack that sent the entire school reeling in shock.

News of Nearly-Headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley’s petrification had soon reached everyear, bringing with it mounting and very real panic. Before it had merely been the mystery revolving around the Chamber of Secrets, but now the stark reality of their situation was becoming very real to everyone at the school. It was now apparent that theMonster of Slytherin was very dangerous indeed to have been able to petrify a ghost, and everyone was fast realizing that they were no longer safe. Not even at Hogwarts, which was supposed to be the safest place in the wizarding world.

A riotous stampede almost ensued as students scrambled to book their seats on the Hogwarts Express to return home for the Christmas holidays and escape the danger lurking within the castle walls.

“Will you be going home as well?” Tracey asked Lauren shortly after she had put her name down on the Hogwarts Express list.

“Yup,” Lauren replied, popping the ‘p’. “I don’t fancy spending Christmas here with a monster roaming the halls. I much prefer staying alive.”

Lauren had debated whether to remain at the school or not, but in the end she had thought it would be best, and safer, for her to stay out of events. Not only because her Muggle-born bloodline practically ensured that she would become a target for the Basilisk, but there was also the fact that she needed to preserve the original story line.She couldn’t interfere or meddle too much, even though she was tempted to do as such.

“I don’t blame you,” Tracey muttered as they made their way back down to the Slytherin Common room, the various corridors gloomy andoppressively deserted as many students had chosen to remain in the relative safety of the Great Hall or their Common Rooms. To say the current mood permeating the castle was all doom and gloom was an understatement, andtensions were running exceptionally high. “Draco’s staying, though.”

_Good, _Lauren thought to herself. _He needs to be here when those __three __meddlesome __Gryffindors __use the Polyjuice potion to __try and __get some info out of him. _

Lauren feigned surprise as she replied. “Oh? I thought he would have been the first one on the train back home.”

“I think he wants to try and discover the location of the Chamber of Secrets. Or, more importantly, uncover who the true Heir of Slytherin really is.”

Lauren gave a derisive snort.

“Besides,” Tracey continued, “he’s a pureblood. Draco’s in no real danger of being attacked.”

“True. But you’re a half-blood, Tracey. You’re not in any real danger, either,” Lauren pointed out. “So why go home?”

“Because it’s Christmas and I want to spend time with my family, Lauren. That’s what you’re supposed to do at Christmas. Put up with annoying family members and overeat,” Tracey replied philosophically, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Then, reverting back to all seriousness, she continued, a frown pulling at her brows as she concentrated on the main topic at hand. “But that’s the thing, Lauren. I’m not so sure that being a half-blood ensures my safety. Salazar Slytherin was warped in his ideologies, and only wanted witches and wizards of pure blood status to attend Hogwarts. Maybe his heir shares those same values. Oncehe has purged the school of all of the Muggle-borns, who’s to say that he won’t target the half-bloods next.”

Lauren had no answer for that.

_If __the __whole __Tom Riddle __diary __episode_ _had __been__ suc__cessful__, would __Voldemort__ have focused his attention on the half-bloods next_?

Thankfully, they would never find out the answer to that question. Harry Potter would soon destroy the diary and eradicate that threat.

All Lauren could dowas stay as much to the sidelines as possible and let things play out the way they were supposed to.

But, unbeknownst to her, Lauren’s presence had already set off a butterfly effect;the ripples slowly spreading out, changing and tweaking events ever so subtly, unnoticed until one stepped back and viewed the full and final picture as a whole – a picture Lauren would not be able to see until the very end.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren stood in the centre of the bleakly quiet and barren Slytherin Common room, her trunk packed and ready by her feet while she waited. Artemis’ cage was perched upon the top of her trunk, though it was unknown whether her traitorous pet would choose to go home with her or remain with his one true love, otherwise known as Severus Snape. The devotion that raven held for the Potion Master was almost sickening.

A humourless chuckle escaped her lips. Not that she could blame the blasted bird. She, herself, was not immune to the dark and magnetic pull that was purely Severus; an attraction that Lauren could not wholly deny, no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

She was, for a better word, completely and utterly screwed. Unless she somehow managed to get over these inappropriate feelings – which seemed every unlikely as the days and weeks progressed. If anything, her feelings were intensifying to a discomforting level. Which was not good. Not good at all.

“Not going to stay here for the holidays?” a familiar drawl sounded from behind her, startling her from her thoughts.

The Hogwarts express had departed a few hours before, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle being the exceptional few Slytherins who had chosen to remain behind for the holidays.

Lauren whirled around to see Draco leaning against the wall, his arms loosely crossed over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other as he watched her with an air of nonchalance. His ice blue eyes, however, held a shrewdness that foretold that not much escaped his notice.

“Nope. I’d rather be home for the Christmas holidays instead of here waiting for another attack to happen and being bored out of my skull,” Lauren drawled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She had to be careful not to reveal to Draco that she was fearful of being attacked and petrified. That would surely lead to a discussion that would reveal her true blood status.

Draco regarded her for a moment before nodding to himself, satisfied with her answer.

“I’ve heard that you’re going to stay here and try and find the Chamber of Secrets. Aren’t you afraid of being attacked?”

Draco smirked at her question and pushed away from the wall, shoving his hands in his pant pockets as he strolled towards her, coming to stand before her. “Pureblood, remember? I’m not in any danger.”

Lauren cocked her head to the side as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’d bet all the gold in my vault that if you thought for one moment that you were in actual danger, you would be the first one on that train back home, wouldn’t you?”

His smirk broadened at her statement. “Of course.”

“So how do you plan to discover who the Heir really is?” Lauren asked after a few beats had passed.

“No idea yet. But I’ll figure it out. One thing my father taught me is to be aware of my surroundings and notice everything that goes on around me. He always told me that it’s best to gather information discreetly rather than barge in and try and force it out of a person.”

Lauren’s thoughts immediately went straight to Ron and Harrywho would soon be using the Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Crabbe and Goyle. How those two blundering idiots with their lack of finesse had managed to infiltrate the Slytherin House and not be caught was beyond her. Lauren had to assume it had been all blind luck. Though...not so lucky for Hermione Granger. The insufferable know-it-all would soon end up turning herself into a cat, and Lauren was a bit peeved that she would miss out on witnessing that!

“So quietly sit back and observe?”

“Something like that,” Draco replied.

“Any idea where you’re going to start?”

“No, but I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sure you will,” came her sarcastic reply.

“Well, if worse come to worse, I’ll just restart the rumour that you’re Salazar Slytherin’s heir and that I’m best buddies with you. Should work in my favour.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, though, Draco. We’re not best buddies.”

“Of course we are, Ward.”

Lauren couldn’t very well dispute that claim, for it had become apparent some time ago that Draco was now part of her and Tracey’s group, and had firmly established himself as their friend.

_How did my life come to this? _ _I’m friends with one of the most hated characters in the Harry Potter _ _franchise_ _...Though, Draco isn’t all that bad. At least he isn’t to me or Tracey._

At that very moment the door to the Common Room swung open and in strode Severus Snape, swathed in his usual black and his features set in his usual stony surliness. His sharp gaze flickered towards Draco, though his expression heldlittle to no surprise, and then he turned his attention to Lauren, causing her breath to catch in her throat as his dark voids tried to suck her into their fathomless depths.

_Goddammit, Lauren. Get a grip!_

“If you are quite done playingcatch-up with idle gossip, Miss Ward, I suggest we get a move on. I have more important things to do today than wait around while you dawdle.

His words, spoken in cold detachment and sneering haughtiness, stung. Lauren blinked backat him, feeling utterly confounded as her brain desperately tried to comprehend what the hell was going on. It had been quite some time since Severus had spoken to her in such a manner, almost as though she were some other bothersome student instead of the friend she was sure she had become to him.The fact that he was treating her as such hurt more than it should.

“Don’t mind my godfather, Ward,” Draco drawled, his words punctuating the air. “He’s an arse to everyone. Well...except me. But that’s because I’m special.”

“You may be my godson, Draco, but if you dare call me an arse again, I can assure you that you will find out very soon that you are not as special as you think,” Snape remarked, his softly spoken threat hanging heavy in the air.

Draco, realizing his godfather in this moment was very serious, gave a slight nod of his head, his pale features flushed pink at the reprimand he had just received.

“Now are you ready, Miss Ward? I don’t have the patience to deal with your childish shenanigans today,” Snape bit back, rounding on Lauren once more.

Lauren frowned as she regarded the aloof, haughty and severe man before her. _What the hell, Snape?_

Then her brain finally caught up when he surreptitiously arched a brow at her, giving her a subtle hint.

_Ah...this is all _ _for_ _ show. He doesn’t want Draco to realize that he and I are _ _somewhat quite friendly towards each other_ _..._

Lauren quickly composed herself and met Snape’s gaze head-on.

“Of course, Professor Snape,” she remarked dryly. “Let me just get my things.”

Lauren quickly miniaturized her trunk and Artemis’ cage, sweeping up the now matchstick sized items off of the floor before pocketing them and turning around to face Snape once more. She didn’t dare ask about Artemis’ whereabouts in front of Draco, lest she give away the fact that she and Snape were practically co-parenting the vexatious bird.

“Have a good Christmas, Ward,” Draco called out as Lauren followed the sinisterlysilent Snape to the doors.

“You too, Draco. And do try and stay out of trouble,” she remarked, not bothering to glance over her shoulder at the boy.

“Where would be the fun in that?” came his rather amused reply, which was promptly cut short as Snape firmly shut the door.

A few seconds of silence ticked by, Snape refusing to meet her inquiring gaze as he stared hard at a spot on the floor. Finally, when he spoke, his words were strained and held a hint of annoyance.

“You and Draco seem to have grown rather chummy with each other.”

Lauren opened her mouth to respond, but Snape brusquely swept past her, his black cloak melding in perfectly with the murky shadows cast by the dimly lit torches in the dungeon corridor.

_What...what’s happening?_

“I suppose,” Lauren replied, huffing as she struggled to keep up with his long strides, but was failing miserably. “What of it?”

“Oh nothing. Though, a thirty-something-year old woman striking up a friendship with a twelve-year-old boy would be considered rather...injudicious, don’t you think?”

“Injudi..._what?_”

Snape smirked, his gaze trained ahead. “It means to show poor or unwise judgment.

Lauren scowled up darkly at Snape’s profile. “Firstly, it’s not like I had much of a choice. My options of friends are very limited, considering that I am, in fact, stuck in a child’s body!” she snapped.

The corners of Snape's mouth curled up in his trademark sneer, hinting that he didn’t believe her for one second.

Incensed, Lauren barrelled on, “And besides, It’s not like I actively sought out to be friends with the prat. He was like a stray that decided to adopt me.”

“A...stray?” There was no doubt now that Snape was highly amused.

“Yes, a stray,” Lauren affirmed, refusing to back down now.

“I don’t think I have ever heard that word used to describe Draco before.”

“Well, first time for everything,” Lauren muttered.

Snape hummed noncommittally to himself as they continued down the corridor.

“There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?” Lauren asked after a few seconds had passed.

“Perhaps.”

“Oh bloody hell, just spit it out already and stop with all these riddles. You and Dumbledore seem to share that very infuriating trait. You must hold tea parties on a regular basis and discuss how best to annoy everyone around you.”

Snape’s sneer morphed into a sly grin. “Replace the tea with Firewhisky, and you have painted a pretty accurate picture.”

Lauren gaped at him and halted in her tracks. Snape stopped and glanced over his shoulder at her, a questioning brow raised.

“Did...did you just make a joke?” Lauren gawped.

“It has been known to happen from time to time,” Snape remarked dryly, his deep baritone slithering along her skin and making her shiver.

Lauren momentarilyclosed her eyes and shook her head, mainly to dispel the inappropriate ache that had formed low in her belly. Severus’ weapon was his voice and his slyly spoken words, and Lauren was hardly immune.Though he was using neither against her right now, Lauren knew she would be a goner if he ever dared to do so.

_Goddamn teenage hormones! Fuck! I am so screwed, and not in the way I want either!_

Lauren sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes, calling on her Occlumency to retain some sort of dignified front that gave away none of the internal struggle that was warring within her.

Snape eyed her with a sharp-eyed gaze. Deciding not to remark on herodd reaction, he instead asked, “Will your friendship with Dracoalter future events?”

Her pulse quickened, for Lauren had often wondered the same thing. And truth be told, she had been harbouring the hope that she could somehow change Draco’s fate and alter his path. Hopefully for the better.

The intensity of Snape’s gaze ratcheted up and Lauren quickly glanced away.

“Nope,” she mumbled, her lie weighing thick and heavy in the air between them.

A few moments ticked by and her heart rate increased to a wildly beating tempo when Snape closed the distance and was now standing before her, tall and imposing.

“Look at me.”

Lauren sucked in a deep, steadying breath, knowing full well that she could not avoid Snape or ignore his request much longer. Fortifying her Occlumency shields into place, Lauren slowly lifted her gaze.

Snape’s black eyes narrowed into slits as he studied her unreadable features.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“A lot,” Lauren replied, sounding braver than she actually was.

In a flash, Snape’s hand shot out and he had her chin clasped between his thumb and forefinger, his grip vice-like as he forced her to look at him. Before Lauren could so much as react, Snape suddenly dropped his own carefully erected Occlumency shields, and Lauren gasped as his magic crashed over her in a molten river of sizzling sensation that left her utterly boneless and weak.

Unable to concentrate, Lauren’s shields succumbed and crumbled against the onslaught that was purely Severus’ magic. Lauren almost sagged against the staggering and unbearable sensation, but Snape’s iron grip kept her grounded as he held her upright.

“It would be all too easy to extract the information you choose to withhold from me right now while you are vulnerable and weak and...distracted...” he intoned, his murmured words caressing along her suddenly heated skin and causing a blazing trail.

_How can he think straight right now?_ she thought as she stared into the dark recesses of his eyes that threatened to suck her in and hold her captive for all eternity.

Snape continued as though he were totally unaffected. “When it comes to my godson, I would go to extremes lengths to ensure his safety.”

_At least we __have that in common. We __both want Draco safe in all of this..._This crystal clear thought somehow made its way to the surface of her jumbled mind.

Lauren swallowed thickly, once and then twice as she tried to form a coherent sentence. “Then do it. If you think it will help Draco, then do it. Because I’m going to need help with this. I’m going to need your help. In fact, I am asking for your help.”

Snape blinked once in what was obvious shock at her challenge, but he hastily masked his features into an unreadable mask. He stared down at Lauren for a few moments longer before releasing his grip on her and stepping back. Lauren stumbled back, her back hitting against the rough stone wall behind her, and she sagged gratefully against it for the much needed support. She rubbed at her aching jaw, closing her eyes tightly and trying vainly to forget the feel of Snape’s long-fingered hand upon her bare skin and how wrong, yet so right it felt.

The silence stretched between them and Lauren, finally having managed to regain her composure, cracked open her eyes and stared back at Severus, who was looking marginally more pale than usual.

“How much danger is he in?” Snape finally asked, his usually silky voice rough and strained.

Lauren blew out a deep breath and pushed away from the wall, her legs feeling much steadier than before. “He’s not going to come out of this unscathed, if that’s what you’re asking. None of us are.”

“You are playing a very foolish game by asking for my help,” Snape finally remarked.

Lauren sighed and rubbed tiredly at her forehead. “It may be foolish, but I was telling the truth. I really am going to need all the help I can get, and I would prefer that help coming from the one person I trust the most.”

Snape was deathly silent as he regarded her. Lauren held his gaze and finally he glanced away. “Let’s get you home,” he muttered and, turning on his heel, ascended the staircase without looking back to see if she was following.

Lauren inwardly growled in frustration, buttrailedsilently behind him, knowing it would be no use trying to force an answer out of him.The idea had been implanted in his head and all Lauren could do was wait and hope that he would eventually agree. Because Lauren was certain on one thing: she could not do this on her own and she was going to need his help.

Theirprogression to the Headmaster’s studywas made in complete and utter silence, the stone gargoyle leaping aside in the face of the waspishly uttered password made by Snape. Severus then stepped aside and motioned with a long fingered hand for Lauren to precede him, his features still set in that of stoniness.

Lauren hesitated. “Wait...what about Artemis?”

“The bloody bird knows where you live, Miss Ward. If he wishes to be in your company, then he will come and find you,” came his icy response.

Lauren glared back at him, unamused by his bristly attitude towards her, and brushed past him as she made her way up the stairs.

The Headmaster’s office was currently empty, and Snape wasted no time marching towards the fireplace and flinging a fistful of Floo Powder into the hearth, turning the flickering golden flames a brilliant emerald green hue.

Snape nudged his head impatiently for Lauren to come to him. One look at his stony expression foretold that it would be unwise to refuse him.

Lauren closed the distance and was somewhat surprised when Severus raised his hand, waiting for her to place her hand in his own long fingered one.

Lauren briefly hesitated, but then accepted his outstretched hand. Their fingers automatically interlocked, curling perfectly around each other, and Lauren had to resist the shudder that coursed through her at how perfectly they fitted with each other.

_It’s like my hand was made to fit with his..._

Lauren mentally slapped herself. _You can’t be thinking __stupid things __like that, Lauren!_

Snape, for his part, seemed unaffected as he straightened up and stepped into the fireplace, tugging on Lauren’s hand with more gentleness than she was accustomed to by him, though he still remained closed off and aloof. Lauren did no miss the way his grip tightened on her hand ever so slightly as he called out her place of residence; a grip she was grateful for as they were suddenly spinning wildly to their destination. Lauren instinctively shut her eyes tightly and prayed for the wild ride to be over with.

And, thankfully, it finally did. Lauren blinked open her eyesand stepped out of the fireplace, her stomach roiling uncomfortably. She sucked in a deep breath, waiting for the sensation to subside. Finallyshe glanced up and saw that shewas back home in her manor.

Snape instantly released his hold on her hand and withdrew his wand, casting a cleansing spell upon bothLauren and himself. Once his task was complete, he resheathed his wand and finally lifted his gaze. Lauren was disappointed to note that he had reverted once more to the haughty and formidable Professor once more.

“I shall return for you the evening before the school term is to resume. I trust that you can stay out of trouble for that short length of time?” he asked with a scathing bite of sarcasm.

Lauren rolled her eyes at him. “I have a house-elf spying on me twenty-four seven, ready to alert you or Dumbledore if I so much as try anything I’m not supposed to. Besides, there’s not much trouble I can get into really.”

“Knowing you, Miss Ward, you will find a way,” came his ever dry and pessimistic reply.

Lauren ignored him and brushed past him as she stepped further into the kitchen, noting that it had been recently scrubbed clean and there was even a pie was baking in the oven, the crust almost a perfect golden brown.

“Speaking of my spy, where is Blinky?” Lauren asked, turning around to face Snape.

Snape opened his mouth and was about to give her a snide comment when a shrill squawk of fear echoed throughout the house.

Lauren and Snape shared a look and thenimmediately dashed towards the living room, where the cry of distress had come from. They found Blinky backing away nervously from Artemis, who had one of Lauren’s socks clutched in his beak.

“Is he...trying to gift her with one of my socks?” Lauren asked.

“It would seem so.” It was hard to tell, but Lauren thought she detected a hint of amusement in Severus’voice.

“Would that even work? Technically, Blinky is not my house-elf. She belongs to Hogwarts and serves under Dumbledore.And Artemis is a bird. There’s no freaking way that him giving her one of my socks will somehow set her free...”

“By her apparent fear, I would hazard a guess that you are considered her Mistress for the duration of the school holidays, and therefore the same rules apply. And, twisted as it may appear, Artemis has established himself as her dominant...”

Lauren would have scoffed at the ludicrosity of it all, but Blinky let out another terrified squeak as Artemis hopped closer towards her.

“Artemis! That’s enough!” Lauren scolded.

The raven paused and cocked his head to the side, giving Lauren a beady-eyed look as he sized her up. Then he blatantly turned his back on her and ruffled his feathers, a gesture that clearly stated that he had no intentions of listening to Lauren.

“Do something!” Lauren exclaimed, rounding on Severus, who was looking more delighted as the seconds ticked by.

“Whatever for?” he asked, folding his arms in front of him as he watched the scene play out before him.

“Because the poor elf is scared out of her wits! And the bloody bird only listens to you. So do something!”

Snape turned a lazy look upon Lauren; a look that morphed into that of shrewd calculation. “Only if you swear that you will stay out of trouble.”

Lauren gawped at him. _The bastard __is blackmailing me__!_

“Seriously?!” she shrieked. “Blackmail?!”

Snape gave a single nod of his head. Lauren stared back at him, not quite believing that he was pulling this stunt. She was about to blatantly refuse, but another whimper punctuated the air.

Lauren glanced at the terrified elf, and then back at Snape.

“For the remainder of _this _Christmas holiday only?” she asked, having learned her lesson all too well when it came to making a deal with this particular Slytherin.

His smirk broadened at her clarification. “You learn fast. Yes, for this Christmas holiday only.”

Lauren glared back at him, desperately trying to think of another way out of this.

“Your answer, Miss Ward.”

Another whimper punctuated the air, sounding like nails on a chalk board to Lauren’s ears.

“Fine!” Lauren snapped. “I’ll stay out of trouble to the best of my abilities for the remainder of this Christmas holiday. There! Happy?!”

Mirth flashed within those dark depths, and then Snape abruptly turned his attentionon Artemis. Lauren watched with stunned fascination as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers together. Instantly the raven dropped the offending sock and launched into the air, circling the room once before landing on Severus’ shoulder, now the very picture of obedience.

Lauren spared a glance at the house-elf, who had taken the opportunity to scamper back to the relative safety of the kitchen, and then rounded on the two infuriating males in her life.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you two planned all of this...”

“That would be rather sly and very much Slytherin of us,” Snape deadpanned. Lauren didn’t miss the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Flinging her arm out, Lauren snarled, “Out! And take your blasted bird with you!”

A low chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “You need to work on being more formidable, Miss Ward. You thirteen-year-old self hardly induces any fear within a person.”

A growl escaped her lips. “I’ll show you intimidation, you sneaky bastard,” she ground out as she withdrew her wand from the sleeve of her robe, preparing to hex him with a nasty spell. Her wand had barely been freed from its sheath when it was blasted from her hand, clattering to the stone floor.

“You were saying?” Snape asked lazily.

Lauren tore her stunned gaze away from her expelled wand and glanced up to see Snape staring back at her with smugness painted all over his features. His wand was gripped loosely in his pale hand and pointed down at the floor. Lauren was reminded yet once again of what a formidable adversary Snape really was. She hadn’t even seen him withdraw his wand, let alone cast the Expelliarmus spell.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Lauren turned her back on him and marched towards the kitchen. “Smug bastard. Now get out!”

His deep, low chuckle followed her to the other room, and the sudden silence that followed foretold that he had Floo’d out, leaving her very much alone. A loneliness that Lauren found she could not quite tolerate.

Seeking a distraction, she went to look for the house-elf and try and calm her down. Anything to keep her mind off the dark Potion Master. Even if it meant dealing with a wailing elf. Not for the first time Lauren wondered how her life had come to this.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


True to her word, Lauren remained house bound and out of trouble for the next few days. She had only ventured out to Diagon Alley once to do some Christmas shopping, but that expedition had beena rather short outing as there were only three people on her Christmas list that she wanted to buy gifts for, and those three people most certainly did not include the Golden Trio.

For Draco, Lauren had found a miniature broom about the size of her hand that had been enchanted to fly and zoom around the air. Upon the handle a few simple words had been engraved: ‘_Still the best to me.’_ Lauren suspected that Draco would appreciate this simple gift more than something of great monetary value.

Tracey’s gift had been easy this year: posters, key chains and everything Lockhart related that Lauren could get her hands on. She had detested buying them, especially when the shopkeeper had given her a knowing look, thinking that Lauren was purchasing them for herself. It was testament as to how much she valued her friendship with Tracey that she didn’t immediately incinerate all the items and had kept them intact long enough to wrap them and send them off to the girl.

Shopping for Severus Snape, on the other hand, had proven near impossible, and Lauren had spent a good portion of her time searching and searching for the right gift for him. Finally she had stumbled upon something in a little store tucked away in a back alley, and Lauren knew as soon as she had laid eyes on the item that it would be the perfect gift.

Lauren awoke Christmas morning to a silent house, which was not out of the norm, and she hadn’t expected anything less. There would be no gaggle of people she considered close friends or family congregated around her, wishing her a Merry Christmas and laughing and chatting while passing around gifts. There would be no sense of contentment and merrimentfilling the air today with its Christmas festivity.

No, empty silence would be her only companion this day, and Lauren was contended with this. It was a way of life she had grown used to.

There were two parcels waiting at the foot of her bed, and Lauren tried to ignore the painful stab in her chest when she realized that there was nothing from Snape – only one each from Draco and Tracey. Not that she had expected anything from the acerbic Potion Master, especially not after his vehement vow that she would never receive another gift from him after her reaction with the obsidian pendant. But still, a small pathetic part of her had been hoping that he would have at least have thought of her. The fact that he hadn’t even wished her a Merry Christmas hurt more than it should have.

Lauren sighed and went about opening the Thank You letters from her friends, who had no doubt been up at the crack of dawn in their childish exuberance.

As predicted, Draco had not stated as much, but Lauren could tell that he had been deeply touched by her gift. And, being the prat that he was, had gifted her with a signed and framed poster of Lockhart. He must have had it enchanted as well, for the blasted thing refused to burn to ash in the fireplace, and no other spells left a mark on it. Lauren kicked it to the side and made a mental note to give it to Tracey when she returned back to school.

Tracey’s gift was a tongue-in-cheek book on proper etiquette around teachers, and another book on how to make and keep friends. Tracey, it would seem, was still pissed about Lauren’s little stunt of turning Lockhart into a peacock.

The rest of the day passed in a blissful and peaceful tranquility, with Blinky making an exceptionally delicious turkey Christmas dinner with all the trimmings to go with it.

Belly now full, Lauren snuggled up in the armchair in front of the crackling fire, becoming deeply immersed in a book (not the ones Tracey had given her – those had mysteriously disappeared).

Suddenly the fireplace flared a brilliant emerald green and Lauren barely had time to register what was happening before a dark form stumbled out, doubled over and shaking silently from head to toe as he clutched at the side of the fireplace for support. It took her a few moments to register that it was Severus Snape.

_Oh shit! _ _S_ _omething’_ _s_ _ wrong. Is he hurt?_

These rapid-fire thoughts flew through her head as Lauren scrambled from her chair and was instantly at the Potion Master’s side.

“Professor Snape? Are you hurt?” she asked, unsure of what to do.

The shaking intensified, and Lauren was starting to grow seriously worried.

Suddenly a foreign sound punctuated the air and it took Lauren a moment to realize that Severus Snape was not hurt but was, in actuality, laughing.

His deep, rich laughter filled the air and all Lauren could do was stand there and stare at him, completely at a loss for words.

_What. The. Hell?!..._

A few more moments passed and finally Snape straightened up with visible effort.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Lauren asked, still unsure what to do. This was a side of him she had not yet encountered.

Snape’s already broad grin widened, his black eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. “I’ve just returned from the Hospital Wing.”

Lauren frowned. “Yeah. So?”

Snape bent at the waist, his raven black hair falling in a glossy curtain around his face. “Guess who made a huge mistake with the Polyjuice Potion and managed to turn herself into a cat.”

Lauren blinked back at him as realization dawned on her, and she mentally kicked herself for not remaining at the school to witness that sight!That would have been the highlight of her school year. And judging by the mirth dancing within his swirling dark eyes, it was clearly now one of Snape’s more memorable moments.

A broad grin of her own stretched upon her lips. “Oh please tell me that you managed to get a picture of Granger as a cat?!”

A pleased glimmer entered his eyesat the fact that Lauren shared his morbid delight atHermione’s misfortune.

Straightening up, Severus shook his head from side to side. “Unfortunately, Dumbledore explicitly warned me to behave myself.”

“Pity,” Lauren muttered. “I would have loved to have seen that myself. So, I take it you have been tasked with brewing the potion to turn her back to normal?” she asked, choosing to return back to her armchair.

“Yes,” Snape replied, settling into the sofa opposite her.

“Can I help you brew it?” Lauren asked, unable to mask her eagerness.

Snape eyed her thoughtfully and finally gave a nod of his head. “Of course. I’ll drop by tomorrow and we can brew it together. It should take a few hours to complete, though I may or may not have insinuated that it would take a few weeks to administer the potion and for the effects to take place and for Miss Granger to return back to normal.”

Lauren gawped at Snape’s obvious twisted and very sadistic sense of humour – a sense of humour that she, too, possessed – and she couldn’t control the delighted giggles that escaped her lips. Her giggles quickly morphed into full-blown and unrestrained peals of laughter.

Snape seemed pleased with her reaction and settled back comfortably in the sofa, stretching his long legs out in front of him and folding his long-fingered hands over his middle. In this moment he perfectly emulated a cat of prey; completely relaxed and fluid, but could revert into a dangerous predator in the blink of an eye.

“Oh that’s perfect,” Lauren wheezed. “Absolutely brilliant!”

Snape inclined his head in smug acknowledgement, a shadow of a smirk playing upon his lips. Then he glanced around the room, his features morphing into that of thoughtfulness.

“You have foregone the usual and annoying festive Christmas decorations,” he mused aloud.

“That’s because I usually spend Christmas alone. What’s the point of decorating when it’s only me.”

Snape nodded, more to himself than her, but made no other comment as silence settled comfortably between them.

“I haven’t seen Artemis, not since this morning,” Lauren stated, breaking the lull.

“The greedy bird is currently suffering from what I can only term as a food coma from all the Christmas treats he has scoffed down today, and is currently asleep on the back of my armchair.”

“He didn’t get the treats by himself. You indulged him, didn’t you?” Lauren teased.

“No, I didn’t,” Snape snapped back.

Lauren grinned at Snape’s obvious lie, and his refusal to admit that he held a very soft spot for the raven.

Glimpsing the knowing look she was shooting him, Snape stood in one motion, causing his robes to flare open and reveal his many buttoned cloak underneath. Lauren blinked in surprise at the sight, and thena warm, pleased sensation coursed through her veins at the realization that he was currently wearing the Christmas gift she had given him.

All the buttons had been replaced with the new ones she had purchased for him; each depicting a silvery raven in flight upon them.

Snape caught her staring and promptly pulled his robes shut tightly around him, hiding the fact that not only did he clearly like her gift, but had willingly chosen to wear it.

“You’re wearing them,” Lauren mused, sitting up straight in her chair.

A frustrated growl echoed in the back of his throat and then Snape snapped churlishly, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Miss Ward.”

Knowing it was best not to push it with him, Lauren nodded and muttered, “Of course. Good night, Professor Snape.”

Suddenly a small parcel landed on her lap, causing Lauren to jolt. It was small and palm sized, wrapped in bright shiny red wrapping. Snape clearly had gone back on his vow and had purchased her a Christmas gift. The thought made her almost lightheaded with giddiness ,and her heart started hammering wildly in her chest as she picked up the small present

_He actually thought of me..._

Lauren glanced up, just catching sight of the tail end of his robe rounding the corner as Snape swept from the room, and her house, without a word of goodbye.

Lauren debated whether to chase after him, but knew he would be long gone by the time she made it to the kitchen fireplace. Instead she settled back in her chair and unwrapped his gift, trying hard to ignore the way her hand was trembling slightly.

Lifting the lid of the tiny box, Lauren frowned. For there inside, nestled among crinkly and crisp white tissue paper, was a small crystal orb about the size of a golf ball. Lauren plucked it up between her thumb and forefinger, lifting it to the light to view it better. Nothing happened, no matter how hard she peered at it.

Placing it aside, Lauren caught sight of a neatly folded note inside the box. Fishing it out, she hastily unfolded it and skimmed over the message scrawled in red and spidery handwriting.

_This _ _O_ _rb _ _of Intention _ _will _ _glow_ _ blue and _ _be _ _hot _ _to the touch_ _ when imminent danger is upon you. Keep it on you at all times, Miss Ward, so that you will be suitably warned of impending danger and may take aprropriate measure_ _s to protect yourself._

The note was to the point and held very little thanks or anything personal, but she wouldn’t have expected such a thing from him. Snape was not that type of person, and Lauren had to read between the lines to decipher his message. And his message was quite clear. Snape cared about her safety and well being, and by extension her. Between the obsidian charm dangling from her bracelet and this orb, he was trying to protect her as much as he possibly could under the circumstances without giving too much away.

With Snape it was what he didn’t say that said the most. His actions spoke louder than any words could.

The warm fuzzy feeling intensifiedwithin her chest, settling deep into her very core, and Lauren pocketed the orb, vowing to keep it on her at all times.


	30. Chapter 30

“If you add that now, you’ll most certainly ensure that Miss Granger remains a member of the feline species for the remainder of her miserable life...not that I would complain,” Snape’s snide remark echoed throughout the Potion’s classroom.

Lauren faltered, having about to add the sprig of Foxglove to the bubbling lilac hued potion withinthe cauldron settled upon the workstation. She dubiously eyed the herbclutched in her fist, and then glanced at the spidery instructions Snape had scrawled down on the blackboard.

“But...Foxglove is one of the required ingredients,” Lauren protested.

“Yes it is, but you have forgotten a very vital step, Miss Ward,” Severus stated, a hint of exasperation entering his tone.

Lauren skimmed over the instructions and mentally kicked herself when she realized her mistake. _How could __I__ have missed that? _The answer to that was simple enough: she had been distracted by the mere presence of Severus Snape himself.

Placing the herb down upon the counter, she proceeded to add the powdered Baneberry, ensuring to stir it evenly twelve time clockwise. The brew turned a brilliant violet colour, indicating that Lauren had been successful in this process of the potion brewing. Now she had to let it simmer for ten minutes before adding the Foxglove.

Returning her ladle to the counter, Lauren turned her attention to Snape, who was eyeing her cauldron, almost as though he was expecting it to suddenly explode and kill them both in the process. And maybe he was. It was habit formed after years of teaching inept students who had a knackfor melting and exploding cauldrons, and almost poisoning the entire classroom. He needed to be diligent and always on the alert when it came to the subtle art of potion brewing – and art form that could turn deadly in the inexperienced and clumsy hands of his students.

“You know, you could have kept quiet...It would have been considered an honest mistake and Hermione would be a cat forever...A fact that you just admitted that you would have no problem with. Don’t tell me that the thought didn’t cross your mind.”

“And have my reputation as one of the greatest Potion Masters in Greater Britain tarnished. I think not,” Snape remarked acidly.

A smirk crept upon her face. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Snape lifted his dark gaze and arched a superciliousbrow. “And what, exactly, do you mean by that?”

Lauren rested her elbows on the wooden workstation, cradling her cheeks in the palms of her hands as she stared back at him with a far too innocent look gracing her features. Snape immediately lookedsuspicious as he narrowed his eyes.

“I think you do care about what happens to the students...more than you’re willing to admit.”

Snape gave her a milk-curdling and very condescending sneer before turning his back on her, his slender hands clasped behind his back as he scoffed, “Hardly. I couldn’t care less what happens to those dunderheads.”

“Uh-huh,” Lauren hummed, clearly insinuating that she didn’t believe him for a second. Thecold look of warning he shot her from over his shoulder forewarned her, though, that she had better quit messing with him else she wouldn’t come out of this alive and with limbs intact.

Deciding to play it safe, she pushed away from the workstation and pretended to read over the rest of the instructions, though she barely registered the words written down. Reaching absently into the pocket of her sweater, her hand curled around the orb nestled within, right now cool to the touch and a clear indication that she was in no real danger from the volatile Potion Master. Yet.

True to their natures, neither Lauren nor Snape made any mention or reference to their Christmas gift exchange, both choosing to ignore the subject entirely. Though a pleased sensation coursed through the marrow of her bones when she glimpsed the flash of silver from the buttons she had given him. It truly was a testament in itself that he was even wearing it.

“So...” she began, wanting to break the silence that had fallen between them. Her sudden words caused Snape’s attention to snap in her direction, andhis features were instantly guarded, almost as though he expected her to launch into another attack on the fact that under all those layers of cruelty and arrogance he really did care. Lauren ignored his reticence and barrelled on. “Any chance I can get a sneak peak of the school’s newest kitty-cat?”

Snape’s posture visibly relaxed and a cruel smirk curled the corners of his lips. “By all mean, you’re more than welcome to...though you first need to sneak past Madam Pomfrey whom, I should warn you, is not a witch I would dare cross, Miss Ward.”

“No chance of you helping me then?”

“No,” came his curt reply.

Lauren mock pouted. “And here I thought you would be a more than willing accomplice.”

“My help is not freely, nor lightly given, Miss Ward.”

The air between them suddenly became strained with the double meaning of his words, and as Lauren stared back at him she could discern that he was still considering long and hard upon her request. And, knowing Snape, he would not come to a final decision until he had weighed all the pros and cons carefully...and that could be months, maybe even years. Unless his hand was forced.

“I know,” she finally murmured, dropping her gaze.

Another prolonged lull descended, and Lauren decidednow was the perfect time to change the subject before Snape went on the defensive, or outright refused her.

“One little peek at the kitty-cat?” she pleaded, lifting her gaze.

Snape, his features set in stony and haughty lines, glared back at her with narrowed eyes. Lauren returned Snape’s gaze with the most innocent look she could muster. It must not have worked, for his dark eyes glinted with malicious contempt.

“You have a lot to learn when it comes to using your womanly wiles, Miss Ward. Your technique is rather...lacking.”

Lauren batted her eyelids in another vain attempt to sway him. “Please?”

Snape scoffed and strode towards her workstation, avoiding her pleading gaze.

“Finish your potion,” he snapped, picking up the Foxglove and handing it to her with a pointed look.

Lauren sighed, knowing that there was no use pleading with him, and straightened up, accepting the herb from his outstretched hand and adding it to the gently simmering brew. There was a bright and blinding flare and when it had died down, the potion within had now turned a pastel lavender colour.

“Let that simmer for twenty-three minutes and then put it on stasis,” Snape instructed, his tone clipped. “I’ll be back in the morning to check out the final outcome.”

“And what about Hermione?”

“What of her?”

“I thought you were going to give her the potion...” A hint of doubt entered her voice.

Snape regarded her for a moment. “No,” he finally replied. “You may have talent with potion brewing, but you still have a long way to go yet before you reach the level of Potion Mistress, Miss Ward. Your brew, though good, is still insufficient.”

“So you’ve prepared the cure for her then?”

A cruel smirk curled his thin lips. “With a few modifications made to ensure she is not cured instantly.”

Lauren shook her head, though a smile of her own sprang unbidden to her lips. “You really are a vindictive bastard.”

“True, but I don’t hear any complaints from you about my plan.”

“And you won’t. We all need our bit of fun, no matter how petty.”

His smirk morphed into a pleased smile, an inner light reaching those impossibly dark eyes. There was a certain added softness to his features that caused an all too familiar fluttery sensation to churn within the pit of her stomach as he gazed back at her, and Lauren had to quickly glance away to hide the blush that had crept onto her cheeks at the threat of becoming mesmerized with the dark pools of his obsidian gaze.

Snape frowned at her odd reaction. Finally he spoke up. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Ward. Good night.”

Lauren glanced up, but Snape was already walking through the doorway without a backward glance and leaving her alone in the now suddenly empty and void room as he disappeared in a swath of black. It was moments like these that Lauren realized how much Snape could fill a room with his presence, dark and foreboding, or with an intensity that was guarded and contained, but no less compelling.

“Good night, Severus,” she whispered, his name sounding forbidden and foreign to her tongue. A name she was not able to,nor was she allowed to use freely, no matter how much she longed to do so.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


A few days later signalled the end of the Christmas holidays, and Snape came to collect Lauren, Floo’ing them back to the Headmaster’s study.

“Isn’t there an easier and, more importantly, a more enjoyable way to travel?” Lauren bemoaned as she clutched the side of the mantle to steady herself and give her stomach time to settle.

“We could always try flying brooms the next time...though I do wonder how your nose would survive that ordeal,” Snape remarked snidely.

Lauren shot him a withering glare at the not so subtle reference to her first flying lesson and how she had managed to break her nose.

“Draco’s right,” she muttered.

“About what?” Snape asked offhandedly as he unsheathed his wandand proceeded to vanish the soot from both him and Lauren.

“You are an arse.”

Instead of being offended, Snape merely smirked down at her. “That, Miss Ward, is common knowledge. Now, I trust you can make your own way back to your room. I have to prepare for the onslaught of miscreants that are due to arrive in another hour, and I have neither the time nor the inclination to coddle you.”

Lauren straightened her rumpled sweater, huffing annoyedly “I’m not a child. I don’t need...‘coddling’.”

“Could have fooled me,” Snape remarked snidely as he pointedly looked her child-form up and down.

Lauren shot him a withering glare before marching from the room, but not before flipping him the birdie as she exited. She could have sworn his low chuckle followed her all the way down the corridor.

An hour later, trunk unpacked, Lauren sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for the arrival of Tracey and her fellow dorm-mates, though the latter she barely gave a second thought to.

Suddenly a black shadow swooped into the room, circling once overhead before her raven came toperch upon her shoulder.

“Hello, Traitor,” Lauren muttered, absently smoothing down the feathers upon his chest with the back of her hand. “Not once did you come to visit me during the Christmas holiday. As a pet, you suck.”

Artemis made a series of croaking sounds deep within his chest and then ruffled his feathers before extending his leg out, upon which a rolled up note was tied with an emerald green ribbon.

“Ooh, mail!” Lauren exclaimed, instantly perking up as she hastily untied the note from the raven’s leg. Unrolling it, her eyes skimmed over the message.

_Meet me in my office at one in the morning sharp. Don’t be late._

There was no mistaking Snape’s spidery handwriting, the bright red ink standing out in stark contrast against the crisp white parchment.

Message now received and read, Artemis launched off her shoulder and exited the room as silently as he had entered, his caw of farewell echoing back to her. Lauren folded up the note up and shoved it into her pocket before rising to her feet, a large part of her intensely curious as to why the Potion Master of Hogwarts wanted to meet up with her at that ungodly hour?

Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by the arrival of Tracey, followed shortly by the animatedly chatting gaggle of prepubescents otherwise known as Daphne, Millicent, and Pansy. They were busyconversing among themselves, recounting their Christmas holiday and practically ignoring Lauren and Tracey.

Tracey smiled at Lauren and, true to her more reserved nature, gave her a brief hug in greeting before stepping back. No one could accuse the Slytherin girl of being overly affectionate.

“Thanks for the gifts,” Lauren murmured.

“I thought you might like them,” Tracey replied, a shadow of a smile creeping onto her lips.

“By the way, I have something for you...”

“Oh?” Lauren now had her full attention.

Lauren nudged her head in the general direction of Tracey’s bed where Draco’s ‘gift’ of the Lockhart portrait was currently resting against the fluffed up pillows. The beaming and smarmy image of Lockhart stood out like a sore thumb among the black and silverbedding, and was undoubtedly very much out of place in the Slytherin dorm.

A piercing squeal of girlish delight punctuated the air before Tracey raced over and snatched up the offending portrait, who was delightedly winking at his new admiring and adoring fan. Tracey hugged the picture tight against her chest and it took every ounce of restraint on Lauren’s part to keep her facial expression on the more civilized side and not reveal how disgusted with the gesture she really was.

“It’s perfect,” Tracey cooed. “I can hang it above my bed!”

“Ugh! Please don’t,” Lauren moaned, failing miserably at hiding her revulsion.

“Why not? You gave it to me.”

“Yeah, out of necessity,” Lauren stated.

Tracey paused, eyeing her thoughtfully before fully extending the picture out in front of her and studying the portrait. Finally she glanced up at Lauren with shrewdness shimmering in those intelligent eyes. “Okay, who gave this to you?”

“Draco,” Lauren muttered sourly.

A delighted giggle escaped Tracey’s lips. “Serves you right, Lauren. Though, I am surprised you didn’t throw it in the fire.”

Lauren didn’t miss the image of Lockhart visibly blanching and shaking his head vigorously from side to side in protestation.

“I tried, but the prat enchanted it. So...it’s now yours. And it’s non returnable!”

Tracey gave her a soft smile. “Thanks. And I wouldn’t dream of parting with this!”

“Thank God for small mercies,” Lauren muttered. “Just...don’t tell Draco. Please.”

“You have my word,” Tracey vowed before carefully placing the picture back on her bed and turning back to Lauren. “Shall we go to dinner. I’m starving!”

As they made their way down to the Great Hall, Lauren suddenly realized how lonely she really had been over the holidays. It was a disconcerting thought how much her close knit group of friends had come to fill the void in her life. A void she hadn’t realized was there until she had arrived in this world.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren swung open the portrait and poked her head out, unsurprised to find Snape standing in the middle of his study and clearly waiting for her arrival. He stood tall and erect, his hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back as he regarded her with dark eyes that seemed even more opaque in the presence of the overshadowing night.

“You summoned me,” Lauren intoned, stepping out of the tunnel.

“Yes.”

“Care to explain why?”

“No.”

Lauren gave a long drawn-out sigh. Part of her was tempted to turn around and just leave.

“I thought, rather, that I’d show you. Follow me.” With that curt command, Snape turned sharply on his heels and headed towards the door, holding it open for Lauren. She hesitated for a brief second, but she trusted him enough to follow without further questioning.

They wordlesslytraversed the gloomy and dimly lit corridors of the dungeons, making their way upthe stairs that led to the main level of the castle. Snape’s steps did not falter was he strode with an air of quiet confidence past the Great Hall and guided her up some more staircases and down a few more corridors. It didn’t take long for Lauren to realize where they were headed, and a wide grin stretched upon her lips. Snape had reconsidered her request and was now taking her to the Hospital Wing to glimpse Hermione Granger in all her glorious feline form.

“Wipe that silly smile off your face, otherwise I will be tempted to march you right back down to the dungeons,” Snape grumbled.

“As far as threats go, that wasn’t too bad, especially coming from you,” Lauren stated, though she made a concerted effort to school her features as she walked beside him, struggling to keep up with his longer strides.

“Still as insolent as ever, I see.”

“Yup. Not going to change any time soon,” she shot back.

Snape gave a snort. “That I know all too well, Miss Ward. Now, I don’t think I need to remind you how imperative it is to keep absolutelyquiet and not be caught. If you are so much as found out - by Madam Pomfrey or Miss Granger herself - I will not hesitate to leave you on your own to defend yourself, and suffer the ensuing consequences as a result of this little venture.”

“Basically, you’re saying you won’t hesitate to throw me under the bus?”

“Something along those lines.”

“Gee thanks. Fine. I’ll behave,” Lauren muttered.

Another snort sounded, indicating that Snape clearly did not believe her. Not for one second.

They soon arrived at the tall and imposing doors of the Hospital Wing. Snape halted and gave Lauren a pointed look that clearly indicated that now was the time for her to keep good on her word and behave.

He rolled his eyes dramatically when she made a zipping motion across her closed lips, then turned the handle of the door, swinging it open smoothly andsilently on it’s hinges.

They stepped inside the hushed room and it took a few moments for Lauren’s eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior, which had only been lit with a meagre amount of lanterns, enough to keep the clawing shadows at bay.

Without another word said, Snape strode with silent treads towards a bed on the opposite side of the room where the curtains had been drawn tight around it. Lauren followed closely behind, her heart hammering in her chest as she nervously glanced around, half expecting the formidable form of Madam Pomfrey to leap out shout ‘Boo!’.

Snape paused just on the outskirts of the thick white curtains and nudged his head sharply, indicating that Lauren had better hurry up and do what she came here to do. He raised a long finger to his lips, reminding Lauren to keep absolutely quiet.

Lauren gave a single nod of her head and took a tentative step forward, reaching out with a slightly trembling hand, and drew back the curtain enough to peer inside.

Hermione Granger was currently deeply asleep and snuggled amongst the warm bedding, and very much resembling a cat. Lauren gaped at the two pointed ears protruding from her head, the mass of glossy chocolate brown fur covering her, and the impressive whiskers sprouting from her cheeks. It was such a disconcerting sight, to say the least, and Lauren was momentarily stunned.

_T_ _he makeup artists didn’t do a very good job in the movies. The real thing is _ _way _ _better than I expected! _

Movement to her left caught her attention and she glanced over to see that Snape had come to stand beside her. He raised his hand and pointed to something, his thin lips twitching as he struggled to contain his mirth.

Lauren’s gaze followed to where he was pointing and she let out a small gasp that sounded dangerously loud in the hush of the Hospital Wing. For there, peeking out from under the blankets and draping over the side of the bed, was a long, bushy tail. Lauren stared at it with a gobsmacked expression.

_My...that’s an impressive tail!_

The tail gave a lazy swish and it took every ounce of effort on Lauren’s part to contain the giggles that threatened to erupt.

A sharp nudge to her side stopped her and she glanced up at Snape, who gave another nudge of his head, and Lauren knew it was time to go. They were already pushing their luck as it was by lingering here.

As they walked back to the dungeons, Lauren had to clamp her lips tightly together to contain her laughter, though when they finally reached the Potion’s classroom, she gave up the fight and doubled over, letting the pent-up giggles bubble from her lips, the sound filling the quiet of the night.

“Oh, that was brilliant!” she enthused, somehow managing to get her mirth under control. Her belly ached and her cheeks were quite sore from her impossible wide grin. She glanced up to see a smirk of his own gracing Snape’s lips.

“Yes, it was. It was almost near impossible for me to hide my amusement the first time I saw her like that. I had to draw on every ounce of my Occlumency skills not to outright laugh in her face.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“It was tempting, though I had been warned to behave. And she was close enough to tears as it was.”

Lauren sobered, eyeing him with shrewdness. Snape didn’t seem to realize that he had just let slip the fact that he had actually taken Hermione’s feelings into consideration, and Lauren wasn’t about to point it out to him.

In rare moments, she could sometimes glimpse the real man beneath that acerbic and bristly exterior. Beneath it lay a man who did care. A broken man who would care enough to lay down his life for the wizarding world in the future, though his motives would be misconstrued as something else entirely. But Lauren knew the truth.

Catching sight of the look Lauren was shooting him, Snape’s features snapped back into his usual haughty and arrogant mask that was accompanied by an equally sardonic sneer.

“You had best get back to your room, Miss Ward.”

Lauren gave a single nod. “Thank you, Professor Snape.” Then her face split into a wide grin. “This really made my night!” Without waiting for a response, she practically skipped away, the memory of Hermione Granger as a cat bringing with it another bout of laughter – laughter that floated back to the Potion Master who was currently watching her departure with amusement flashing in those dark obsidian eyes.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The next few weeks flew by, Hermione Granger now finally cured from her infliction and finally returning back to school, putting some of the wild rumours that had been doing the rounds about her to rest. Though, every time Lauren glimpsed the Gryffindor girl, she had to hastily look away and smotherthe wide grin that threatened to make an appearance as the memory of whiskers and a long bushy tail surfaced.

Her private lessons with Snape were now an alternationbetween duelling practice and potion brewing. The latter was proving to be more complex and intricate as Snape started introducing her to a series of more advanced and difficult potions, but Lauren was thriving on the challenges he presented to her.

But she found these lessons challenging in another way. It was hard being in his presence, especially when that heady, almost intoxicating feeling threatened to become too much, and Lauren didn’t know how much more of this torture she could stand. But she knew she had to keep her feelings very much a secret. Snape could never fin out about them. Never.

One morning Tracey woke Lauren up with a verydisconcerting and loopy grin gracing her features as she all but practically dragged the sleepy-eyed Lauren from bed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Lauren snapped, still not a morning person.

“Oh, nothing,” Tracey all but sang as she tossed some clothes at her. Lauren scowled and grumbled all the while dressing, her foggy mind still not comprehending why her friend was so excited. In fact, this early in the morning, she really didn’t care.

She had her answer, though, when they entered the Great Hall and found the walls had been enchanted to a very eye-sore and lurid pink hue, and garishly decorated with huge fuchsia coloured flowers. Somewhere, Lauren had no idea where, stringed music was playing, adding to the ‘romantic atmosphere’.

_Crap...Valentine’s Day..._

Lauren was about to do a full three sixty and bolt from the room, but Tracey’s iron firm grip on her arm prevented her from doing so. So she had no choice but to head to the Slytherin table. It was with varying degrees of revulsion that Lauren noted heart-shaped confetti falling from the ceiling, coating their food and making her instantly loose her appetite.

“Oh, that’s disgusting!”

“I think it’s romantic,” Tracey corrected breathlessly from beside her.

Lauren shot her a scathing look before plonking herself down on the bench.She picked up her plate and blew the confetti off it, though it was useless as more just took its place when she placed her plate back down on the table.

“No, this is not romantic. This is hideous, revolting! Sickening!That’s what it is!”

“I take it you’re not a fan of the holiday?” came a familiar drawl as Draco seated himself next to her, folding his arms in front of him upon the table.

“Not in the least. It’s a silly holiday that is pointless and meaningless,” Lauren grumbled, finally having enough of the confetti and used her wand to cast a Shield Charm above her head, which effectively protected her and her food from being littered with the stuff.

“You sound just like my godfather,” Draco pointed out, scooting closer so that he, too, could share the protection her shield offered. “He despises Valentine’s Day.”

“Cast your own damn Shield Charm, you leech,” Lauren snapped, scooching away. “And for once I agree with your godfather on this. Valentine’s is stupid.”

“That’s because you have no one special to share it with,” Tracey pointed out.

Both Draco and Lauren turned their attention to the other girl, both wearing identical looks of incredulity and revulsion upon their faces.

“Do you?” Draco finally asked.

Tracey flushed and glanced down at her lap, her crimson blush on her cheeks hard to miss. “Maybe,” she mumbled.

Lauren groaned. “You sent Lockhart a card, didn’t you?”

Tracey’s blush turned an alarming shade of scarlet.

“So what if I did?” she asked defensively, still unable to meet their gazes.

Lauren shook her head. _What the hell am I going to do with you?!_

“I thought you had better taste, Tracey,” Draco drawled, straightening up in his chair. A scowl now furrowed his blonde brows.

“And I take back my initial assessment,” Lauren stated, wagging her finger at her friend. “You are no longer the brains of this group, especially if you think that the prancing peacock is someone special.”

Tracey glanced up sharply and opened her mouth to retort, but Lockhart chose that moment to stand up and wish everyone a Happy Valentine’s Day, which included introducing hairy little dwarves dressed as cupids, who would be love letter couriers for the day. They even wore flimsy wings and held bows in their meaty hands. It was a comical sight to say the least, especially when paired with their bushy beards.

Lockhart then proceeded to instruct the students to ask Professor Flitwick about Entrancing Enchantments, and maybe even Professor Snape about how to brew a Love Potion.

“Maybe you should see if Professor Snape will help you brew one to give to Lockhart,” Draco mused snarkily as he tucked into his breakfast of eggs and toast, making sure to blow away the confetti before he took a bite. “I think he would be most agreeable.”

Both Tracey and Lauren glanced over at the staff table, their gazes drawn to the darkly scowling and very venomous looking Snape.

Tracey quickly turned back to Draco. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Maybe I can ask Snape to lace the potion with poison,” Lauren mused.

“Or put something in it to make the transformation of a peacock more permanent,” Draco added.

“Ooh, now that’s a good idea! I like the way you think, Malfoy,” Lauren enthused.

“That’s why we’re friends, Ward.”

“Shut up, the both of you!” Tracey muttered sulkily, causing her two friends to erupt into peals of laughter.

Lauren glanced back over her shoulder at Snape, and in that moments their eyes locked. Snape’s eyes narrowed and he gave her a silent warning over the sea of students: _If you __even so much as__ ask me about Love Potions, I will make you sorely regret it, __Miss Ward__._

Lauren suppressed her impish grin, for it had crossed her mind to tease him about it later on during their private lesson, but his silent threat dispelled that suicidal notion entirely. There were some things you did not dare tease Snape about, and Love Potions, clearly, was one of them.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Easter was soon upon them, bringing with it the much anticipated change in both season and weather. The snow was now completely melted, springy green blades of grass carpeting the picturesque landscape. A crispness permeated the air, distinctly indicating that Spring was well and truly here. The blessed rays of warm sunshine added to the morale to the students, especially considering that there hadn’t been another attack since Nearly Headless Nick and Justin.

With the pending Easter holidays upon them came the moment for the second years to choose their their elective subjects for the following school year.

“What subjects do you think I should choose?” Lauren asked one evening during their private lesson as she waited for her cauldron to start bubbling.

“Why are you asking me?” Snape snapped peevishly from behind his desk as he graded papers.

“Because I would appreciate your opinion and input,” Lauren mused, her eyes skimming over the rather few choices to choose from on the list, entirely missing the quizzical look that Snape shot her.

With a sigh, Snape rose from his seat and came to stand behind her, bending slightly as he peered over her shoulder at her list. Lauren stiffened as his heady scent washed over her, and she held her breath with a sense of desperation, wishing Snape would back away, just a bit. She needed a clear head to think, and him being so close made it near impossible to do so.

“It all depends on which career path you plan to choose,” Snape intoned, his deep voice caressing along her skin.

It took Lauren longer than she liked to admit to focus. “Not even two years ago I was thrust into a fictional world of magic – a world that shouldn’t exist – becoming a witch in the process. Learning to deal with it has been hard enough. Forgive me for not having time to think about which career I want to pursue.”

She glanced up at Snape to see him eyeing her list thoughtfully, his dark brows creasing as he concentrated.

“Fair enough,” he conceded, straightening up. Lauren blew out the breath she had been holding, relaxing fractionally.

“What do you suggest?” she asked after a few moments had passed.

“Skip Divination entirely,” came his immediate response.

“Done and done. I didn’t plan on taking that ridiculous subject anyway,” Lauren stated, scratching that choice off her list with her quill. She then tapped the tip of her quill against the parchment as she perused the other options, causing black splotches to form upon the paper.

“Arithmancy is another more...accurate form of predicting the future,” Snape continued, his tone taking on the quality of lecture mode. “Again, it all depends on which career choice you want to make.”

Lauren gnawed on her bottom lip. “As I said, I hadn’t really thought about it, but if I had to choose...I would probably look into becoming a Potion Mistress.”

A prolonged silence followed her proclamation, long enough that Lauren glanced up over her shoulder at Snape to see why he was remaining quiet and not making one of his famous snide remarks. He was staring at her with an almost guarded expression masking his features.

“That is a path I would highly recommend for you,” he stated slowly. “You have the talent for it...”

“But?...”

“It will take time and dedication, not to mention that you need to possess an appreciation for the subtle art of potion brewing. And, assuming that your grades are well above par, you will then need to train under a licensed Potion Master or Mistress. The more renowned ones in the wizarding world only accept the best as apprentices.”

Lauren eyed him thoughtfully. “You’re a Potion Master...”

“Astute observation as always, Miss Ward.”

“You could train me.”

She had expected a derisive snort, or a scathing retort. Instead silence met her statement. Then Snape abruptly turned on his heel and rounded the workstation, avoiding her curious and questioning gaze.

“I will not be around for such a thing, Miss Ward. This you and I know full well,” he finally stated.

Lauren blinked at the bluntness of his statement, as well as his rather blase acceptance of his fate.

“But...”

“No buts. Our fates, intertwined as they are, are not meant to go beyond this War. I will not allow it.”

As stunned as she was, his words clawed into the recesses of her brain. A chill was now permeating her bones. “Our fates? What do you mean...?”

Snape whirled around, his eyes wide as he realized his blunder.

“Nothing!” he snapped.

Lauren shook her head, snapping out of her confusion. “No, it’s not nothing. What do you mean our fates are intertwined?”

“I said it’s nothing!” He was clearly agitated now as he stared down his nose at her, his eyes glinting ominously.

Lauren rose from her seat, her temper rising to meet his own.

“It’s something. Don’t bullshit me, Severus. Does it have something to do with this bond?”

“No -.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Don’t push me, girl,” Snape hissed, his warning ominous as ringing clearly in the air between them.

Lauren opened her mouth to retort, but Snape sprang into action and grabbed her roughly by the elbow, all but dragging her to the door.

“Hey!” she protested.

Snape made no response as he abruptly opened the door and flung her out. Lauren stumbled, but managed to catch herself from falling to the floor. She whirled around to give him a piece of her mind, but her bag was flung in her direction and she clumsily caught it just as the door slammed shut with a resounding bang.

Lauren dropped her bag to the floor and strode to the door, trying the handle and was unsurprised to find that it would not budge.

Her temper now at boiling point, Lauren hammered on the door with her fists. “Let me in, you bastard!”

Nothing.

Lauren growled in frustration, but knew that no amount of demanding would make him open the door for her, let alone give her an explanation or an answer.

Grabbing her backpack, Lauren flung it over her shoulder and marched back to the Slytherin dorm, fuming and muttering obscenities under her breath.

_Our fates, intertwined as they are, are not meant to go beyond this War..._

Lauren’s brows furrowed. She was certain Snape had just made a reference to their shared bond.

_Intertwined as they are..._

But what had he meant by that? Yes, they shared a bond, but it was just a magical bond. Nothing more.

_Or is there more to it?..._

A curling dread settled deep into the pit of her stomach. Snape had revealed more than he had intended, that was for sure. As she stormed to her room, Lauren knew one thing for certain: she was going to find out one way or the other.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The following week Snape all but ignored her, and each time she went to their allocated lessons, she found the door barred to her. Lauren should have been furious, but one continuous thought kept infiltratingher mind with a growing and gnawing intensity, to the point where she starting to feel physically sick.

_Our fates are intertwined...what does that even mean? _

Lauren didn’t have an answer but her gut was telling her that it was bad. Really, really bad. But she wouldn’t know for certain until she found out the answer for herself. And the perfect opportunity to do so presented itself soon in the form of the upcoming Quidditch match.

That Saturday dawned bright and sunny, promising tobe a cheerfully beautiful day that promised perfect conditions for both players and spectators, and would also provided Lauren with the perfect opportunity to sneak away to the library and get her hands on that forbidden book while everyone was at the stadium.

An excited hustle permeated the school halls as the students eagerly anticipated the last match of the year before the stress of studying for the end-of-year exams was upon them.

Lauren barely touched her breakfast, her stomach gradually having become a tight ball of knots. She would soon have her answer, and part of her was unsure of whether she was going to like it or not.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Tracey inquired.

Lauren startled from her deep thoughts. “Um, yeah,” she replied, pushing her untouched plate of food away.

“Are you sure?”

Lauren hummed an affirmative, her churning stomach signalling that she was far from alright.

Tracey eyed her skeptically, but Draco chose that moment to seat himself next to them.

“Last match of the season. Any wagers on who is going to win?” he asked, his ice blue eyes glinting.

Lauren cast her mind back and tried to recall who had won the match, but her mind was drawing up a blank. Truth be told, she had more pressing things to worry about.

“I hope it’s Hufflepuff,” Tracey stated.

“You and me both, Davis.” Draco paused and eyed Lauren. “You alright there, Ward?”

Lauren was about to nod, but then the perfect excuse for her absence from the match came to her. “Not really. I think I’ll go and see Madam Pomfrey...”

Draco’s usually arrogant features morphed into that of rare concern. “You sick or something?”

Lauren rose from her seat. “Something like that.”

“I’ll come with you,” Tracey offered.

“No,” Lauren said more sharply than she intended to. Drawing in a deep breath, she added more softly, “I’ll meet you two at the match, okay? I’m sure the nurse will have me feeling better in no time.”

Her two friends stared back at her speculatively, but nodded their heads in agreement. Lauren didn’t give them time to protest or offer up any other forms of support, and exited the Great Hall post haste. In a few minutes the students, as well as the teachers, would make their way to the stadium, and she would be free to unearth the secret Snape was so intent on keeping from her.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Lauren made her way in the general direction of the Hospital Wing, but when she reached the doors, she glanced in both directions and then did a full turn around, heading instead down to the library. The school was now jarringly quiet and empty, and she didn’t encounter another soul on her way there.

The library itself was also near deserted, save for one student, a Ravenclaw by the looks of it. She washeading to the back of the library, presumably to catch up on some studying. Lauren ignored her and made her way to Madam Pince’s desk, noting that the librarian was uncharacteristically absent. She glance around but could find no sign of the vulture-like witch.

Lauren sighed and headed towards the old fashioned index card drawer. Chancing another look over her should, she then flipped through the the cards, finally coming upon the one she was looking for: _Olde Magical Lore Unravelled._

Lauren’s midnight blue eyes skimmed over the information written in neat, cursive writing,and then she proceeded to head over to the section where the book was to be found. Her heart hammered in her chest as she skimmed the shelf, nearly stuttering to a halt when she spied it. She hastily plucked the worn leather bound tome from the shelf, almostas though it were a rare treasure she had just unearthed.

_Finally, I’m going to get an answer..._

It was with a certain sense of numbness that she made her way to a nearby table, settling down in the chair and opening up the book before her. It was a thick tome and she had to flip through a huge chunk of the yellowed pages until at last she finally came upon the section she was looking for. Lauren frowned when she noted that there was only two pages dedicated to the subject.

_What the flying fuck? _Lauren turned over the others pages, but saw that there was nothing more written about the bonds. _Well, that’s inconvenient..._

Decided there was nothing to do but read what was written, Lauren’s eyes absorbed the words.

‘Magical bonds are exceedingly rare, almost unheard of, though there have been a few documented cases throughout history...’

Lauren’s frown became more pronounced as she read on.It wasn’t very informative as to how bonds were formed or why. Just statements based on what she assumed was guessed.

There was a section dedicated to a witch and wizard known as Amelia and Tobias, who had shared such a bond, and were considered quite exceptionally powerful when their powers were combined.

_Nothing I didn’t already know, _Lauren mentally mused, the memory of when Snape had demonstrated their shared power coming to the forefront. That memory still chilled her to the bone, especially at the threat of what Voldemort would do to her and Snape should he ever find out about their bond.

Lauren continued reading, and stuttered to a halt when she came to the part where Tobias was killed in a vicious duel. In a strange twist of fate, Amelia was found dead nearby, no marks or wounds on her body to indicate that she had been killed by a spell or otherwise.

‘It has been long speculated that the magical bond, once fully formed, not only binds a witch’s and wizard’s magic, but their life forces as well. Their fates, as well as their deaths, are joined and shared, intertwined until one or the other partner dies...’

Ice seemed to form in her very veins.

Lauren blinked a few times, then her eyes darted back to the paragraph and she reread it with a growing sense of desperation.

_He died first, and she fell shortly after..._

A cold numbness settled into the very marrow of her bones.

_He died...and then she died...Fuck! Their fates were literally shared. If one dies, so shall the other..._

Lauren slumped back in her chair, an odd ringing echoing in her ears as she struggled to draw air into her lungs.

_Then...that means...if Snape dies, then so do I. And if I die, so does he..._

Lauren shook her head.

_No! No. I must be reading it wrong. I must be missing something..._

But she knew without a doubt that she hadn’t, especially when she recalled Snape’s reaction.

_No wonder he didn’t want to share this information with me. This is royally fucked up!_

Another niggling thought surfaced and Lauren leaned forward once more, hunched over the book as she desperately searched for a certain part of the text.

‘Once fully formed_...’_

_Once fully formed? Once fully formed? What does that mean? I thought we already shared a bond._

Lauren paused, her brows furrowing as she contemplated everything she already knew about the bond, which wasn’t much.

_We share a bond, but is it fully formed yet? Maybe not. Maybe we need to do something to make it more...permanent..._

Lauren drummed her fingers against the hard wooden surface of the desk, her mind deep in thought.

_Okay, that sounds plausible. _ _So then,_ _ right now,_ _ our bond _ _hasn’t been made whole_ _, so our fates aren’t shared..._

Lauren clutched her head and groaned to herself.

_I need to speak to Severus..._

A familiar voice sounded nearby, drawing Lauren out of her shell-shocked thoughts. She lifted her head, realizing just how empty the library really was right now. A deathly chill coursed through her body, starting at the top of her spine and coursing all the way to her toes, as she sensed something was amiss.

_Something’s not right..._

The hushed voicesechoed again, sounding more agitated and shrill.

_Wait...that sounds like...Hermione Granger..._

With a sense of foreboding, Lauren rose from her chair and cautiously edged her way to the other side of the bookshelf, pausing when she rounded it and saw Hermione and the Ravenclaw girl huddled together at a table, both poring over a book. Granger’s bushy brown hair obscured most of her features, but there was no mistaking the abject fear now coursing through her tense posture.

Lauren let out a sudden hiss as a white hot pain lanced through her. It took her a moment to realize that the almost unbearable heat was coming from the orb Snape had given her.

She reached into her robe pocket, valiantly ignoring how hot it was to the touch as she withdrew the now glowing blue orb.

‘_This __O__rb __of Intention __will __glow__ blue and __be __hot __to the touch__ when imminent danger is upon you. Keep it on you at all times, Miss Ward, so that you will be suitably warned of impending danger and may take appropriate measure__s to protect yourself.’_

Snape’s written words floated to the forefront of her mind, and Lauren almost dropped the orb as realization hit her.

_Shit! I’m in danger right now, aren’t I?_

She glanced up at Hermione and the Ravenclaw girl, who were now both staring at her with wide eyes.

_Wasn’t Hermione petrified along with a Ravenclaw?..._

The chill within her bones intensified and she glanced back at the orb glowing in the palm of her hand.

_Fuck! _Her mind screamed in mounting panic. _The Basilisk is here...Shit! Shit! Shit!_

Lauren pocketed the orb and all but ran towards the two girls.

“You’ve discovered that it’s a Basilisk?” she asked Hermione, planting both her hands upon the surface of the desk, her nose mere inches from the hers as she demanded an answer.

Hermione gawped at Lauren, confusion evident on her features. “Yes, but...”

“No time, Granger,” Lauren snapped. Her eyes flickered down to the open book between them, showing the page dedicated to the Basilisk, and Lauren knew with crystal clear clarity what she needed to do next. In a lightning quick movement, she snatched up the book up and ripped out the page.

“Hey!” Hermione protested, making to grab the book back.

Lauren discarded to book onto the table and crumpled the page into a ball before rounding the desk, shoving the wad of paper into Hermione’s hand.

“Keep that and do not let go of it, no matter what happens. Do you understand?” she instructed, curling Hermione’s hand into a fist around the balled up page.

Hermione must have noted the urgency and fear in Lauren’s features, for she nodded in mute understanding.

“Good. Harry and Ron need to discover that clue,” Lauren muttered, causing Hermione’s frown to become more pronounced.

The orb’s heat intensified against her side and Lauren drew in a steadying breath, knowing what she needed to do next. And, admittedly, it terrified her.

She reached into her robe pocket with a trembling hand and produced the hand mirror she carried on her at all times.

“Do you have a mirror? We don’t have much time,” she asked, her tone hushed, though still carrying a note of urgency.

“I can quickly transfigure one,” Hermione offered and before waiting for Lauren to snap at her, she took the book and expertly transfigured it into a mirror. She handed it to the Ravenclaw girl, whose chocolate brown eyes were brimming with evident fear as she realized what her fate was about to become.

Hermione quickly snatched up another book and hastily transfigured that one as well. Then she looked up, tears shimmering in her eyes, but showed her true Gryffindor bravery as she gave a single nod of her head, signalling that she was ready.

Lauren drew in another breath through her nose and glanced up and down the aisles on either side of them. She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat, though she could not stop the fine trembling that was now coursing through her body.

_Keep it together, Lauren. You cannot afford to panic now._

Turning back to the girls, she stated in an even voice that belied her inner terror.

“We’re going to be petrified...”

A choked sob escaped the Ravenclaw’s lips. Hermione, on the other hand, was frowning at Lauren.

“But you’re a Slytherin...”

“Yeah. Your point?” Lauren snapped.

“You’re pureblood...”

Lauren arched a brow, morphing her features into that of a condescending mask.

Hermione’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise as she pieced together what Lauren was silently hinting at. “Oh,” she breathed out.

Lauren squared her shoulders andthen turned her back on the girls, edging her way cautiouslytowards the end of the towering bookshelf, her heart hammering painfully in her chest the whole time. She could feel the other two’s hot breaths bearing down on the back of her neck as they followed closely behind, their fear palpable.

Lauren faltered when she reached the end of the bookshelf and she nervously glanced once more over her shoulder at the other two girls, their expression mirroring her own inner terror.

_This is it..._Lauren thought as she numbly turned her attention forwards and slowly lifted her mirror.

Her thoughts oddly drifted to Snape and tears stung her eyes as she recalled their fight, and how she should have heeded his warning. If only she had listened and had not gone searching for the answer, she wouldn’t be in this situation right now about to be petrified.

_I’m so sorry, Severus..I should have listened to you. _

Movement caught her eye and her gaze was drawn to the dangling obsidian pendant swinging from the bracelet on her wrist.

‘_Obsidian: a gem of protection_’

Snape had known this when he had gifted her with it. He was trying to protect her as best he could with what he had.

A choked sob almost escaped her lips as tears blurred her vision.

_I’m so sorry, Severus, _she thought again.

_I’m here with you..._His voice seemed to echo from within her head, somehow grounding her and giving her the courage to proceed with what she needed to do next.

Lauren sucked in a shaky breath and slowly lifted her gaze from the dangling obsidian pendant and looked into the mirror.

Her eyes widened in abject terror, a scream starting to claw its way at the back of her throat. And then everything went black.


	31. Chapter 31

_Lauren..._

The image of terrifying, vile yellow eyes – eyes that struck a resonating discord of disconcertinghorror deep within her – held her captive, locking her body in an enteral state of perpetual fear.

_Lauren..._

Her scream, burning in her throat like acid, desperately tried to burst forth from her lungs.

_Lauren..._

Her name, spoken softly in a familiar, silky deep voice – a voice that she had come to associate with safety - slowly penetrated through to her terror-struck subconscious. Lauren tried to blink back the imagery of the Basilisk's eyes, but her body was unwilling to co-operate.

_The Basilisk...I was petrified..._

“Miss Ward!”

Snape’s sharp command penetrated through to the recesses of her quickly panicking mind.

_Severus?..._

“Wake up!” he barked. “Now!”

The image of yellow eyes distorted and warped like a mirage, and a different pair of eyes took its place, instantly quelling the abject fear clawing within her.

Lauren drew in a ragged breath, feeling as though she hadn’t drawn in a breath of fresh air in weeks as air filled her burning lungs. And, by all intents and purposes, she hadn’t.

She stared up into those impossibly dark and fathomless eyes of Severus Snape, who was currently bending over her, his glossy black hair framing his pale features as he peered down at her. A slight frown was etched between his brows and, in her befuddlement, she was almost sure she discerned a flash of unmasked concern within those depths. Concern that was now laced with relief.

The memory of their fight, which had served as the catalyst for her seeking out the book inthe library and ultimately being petrified, came crashing down on her, and Lauren felt the tears that had been frozen in place fall free from her lashes.

_He was my last thought...and the first person I see..._

Lauren bolted upright, almost headbutting Severus in the nose in the process, and clung to him with an almost urgent sense of desperation. A fine trembling coursed through her body as she held on to him, recallingthose final terrifying moments, and how close she had come to never Severus again. That thought alone caused her heart to twist painfully in her chest.

Snape instantly stiffened against her touch, but Lauren didn’t care as she inhaled his familiar scent, letting it wash over her and ground her. Strangely enough, it was his scent that calmed her and somehow penetrated through to her mind that she was now safe. She would always be safe with him.

She sensed his Occlumency shields slam into place, forming a protective barrier against their magic that was threatening to awaken and reconnect again.

“The Basilisk...” she croaked out, her throat parchment dry and her voice raspy.

“Has been taken care of,” Snape assured. His tone, though softly spoken, held an edge of strain to it.

Lauren knew she should draw back, but she found she could not muster the strength nor the inclinationto do so. He was her safe place and she wanted this moment to last forever.

“I’m...so sorry, Severus,” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against the thick and surprisingly soft material of his cloak, closing her eyes momentarily as she listened to the beating of his heart. It assured her that he was real and very much here in the flesh and blood, and she wasn’t just dreaming this.

Fresh tears fell from her lashes and trickled down her cheeks, and she drew in another shuddering breath.

There was a prolonged pause, heavy and poignant, and then Snape did something she did not expect.

His arms slowly came up and encircled her, drawing her closer and more securely against him, his long-fingered hands splayed against her back. His posture did not relax in the slightest, but the fact that he was making a concerted effort to comfort her was testament in itself.

“As am I, Miss Ward,” his whispered.

As though awakening from a dream, Lauren slowly opened her eyes and drew back enough to peer up at him. Snape was staring down at her, his features a carefully guarded mask, but she thought she caught a glimpse of fear and regret flash within those obsidian eyes. Regret and fear that he had come very close to losing her, she suddenly realized.

Snape raised his hands and Lauren’s breath caught in her throat when he cupped her face, his calloused thumbs sweeping gently across her cheeks and wiping away the trail of salty tears. Lauren stared up at him with wide eyes, noting the guilt writ on his as he stared down at her tear-stricken face.

The moment hung heavy in the air for what felt like eternity.

Then Snape blinked, and the spell was instantly broken as he realized what he was doing. His hands instantly dropped to his side and he all but pushed Lauren away as he stepped back, the mask of haughtiness slamming back into place. A shiver coursed through her at the void of emptiness that followed his sudden absence.

They stared at each other for the longest while, the moment lost but not forgotten.

Then Snape reached into his robe pocket and slowly withdrew a book, holding it up for Lauren to see in the dim light. Her eyes widened when she realized that it was the book that she had been perusing in the library. The book on magical bonds.

_Shit! I forgot to put it away..._

Lauren hadn’t really had much time to figure out whether she was going to confront Snape or not about her findings. But he was choosing to address it now,taking the choice entirely out of her hands.

“You know then?” he asked, though it came out as more of a statement than a question. “About the true meaning of the bond we share?”

Lauren nodded numbly, unable to speak.

Snape let out a growl of frustration and dropped his hand to his side, the book still clutched tightly in his pale hand.

“I warned you not to go searching for the answer.”

“I know,” Lauren whispered.

“I told you that you would not like what you discovered,” he continued, his voice now strained as he struggled to rein in his temper and hold onto his thin thread of composure.

Lauren swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat.

There was a prolonged pause.

“Impudent girl,” he growled. “Tell me, Miss Ward, was I correct.”

“Yes,” Lauren admitted, her stomach now churning, and she glanced down at her hands resting in her lap. Snape’s warning had indeed proven correct, and her discovery had been very unsettling, to say the least. Not to mention that it raised more questions than answers. Questions that only he could answer.

She drew in a deep breath to steel her rattling nerves and slowly lifted her gaze to meet his own. Snape was regarding her with shrewd cunning brewing within the depths of his eyes, though his facial features were a carefully guarded mask.

“I think you had better start explaining,” she said, sounding far braver than she felt.

Snape gave a derisive snort. “You have discovered all you need to know. There is nothing more to explain.”

Lauren shook her head, her waves tumbling over her shoulders. “Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t,” he intoned.

Lauren growled in frustration. Snape could be so infuriating when he was being stubborn. “You know as well as I do that those two pages weren’t very informative, except for the part pertaining to the fact that if one of us dies, so does the other.”

Snape’s already pallid skin paled even more at the mention of their linked deaths. Lauren didn’t know how she knew, but she was certain that her death, whether natural or a byproduct of his own demise, did not settle well with Severus Snape.

Her eyes narrowed further as she suddenly noted that his features, though guarded, seemed somewhat haggard, almost as though he hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in weeks. The strained look in his eyes only added to her suspicions.

_Wait...does that mean he was..._ _upset_ _ by my petrification?_

Lauren didn’t have the answer, and she knew Snape would never willingly admit to it. Especially not to her.

Later, in the privacy of her own thoughts, she would mull over this crucial detail. For it had now become apparent to her that Snape did care for her in his own way. More than he should or could. And if she dared mention it to him, he would close himself off completely from her. And she didn’t want that. She didn’t think she could live with that.

“That is where you are incorrect, Miss Ward,” Snape stated, breaking Lauren from her inner musings. “Our deaths aren’t connected.”

Her mind quickly worked out what he was saying. “Because the bond isn’t complete.”

Severus stilled, and Lauren had the distinct impression that he had been hoping she wouldn’t figure it out, and would simply take him for his word.

_Sometimes I think he wishes I was a simple minded child instead of an adult who can think for herself._

“How is the bond completed?” she pressed.

“I do not know.”

“You’re an intelligent man, Severus -.”

“Professor Snape,” he corrected, and Lauren could have growled in frustration at the fact that he insistent in placing the boundaries of student and Professor back into place.

“You must have some idea,” she barrelled on.

Snape slipped the book back into his pocket and clasped his hands behind his back as he stared down his nose at her, his expression haughty yet unreadable mask.

“Be that as it may, I really do not have theanswer to your question, Miss Ward.”

“You’ve known this truth about our bond for quite some time now. I’d wager anything that you have been researching all that you can.”

Snape merely stared at her and Lauren knew that she was correct.

“So?” she asked after a moment’s silence had fallen between them.

“Perhaps, but it does not mean that I have been successful in discovering an actual answer, Miss Ward.”

Lauren stared at him, silently willing him to cave, but Snape was standing firmly by his convictions. Even if he did have an inkling as to how this bond was completed, it didn’t mean he was going to share his suspicions with her.

She finally let out a weary sigh and ran a hand through her waves, her fingers snagging on some knots and causing her to wince. Snape was not going to cave and she could not force an answer out of him. So she decided to voice another question that had sprung to mind.

“Is that why my petrification did not affect you the same way? Because this bond isn’t complete?”

“Just because we share a bond, complete or not, does not mean that we shall magically experience what the otherdoes. We will not be able to read each other’s minds, nor feel the same emotions of the other. That is just nonsensical.

Lauren blinked up at his cynical and rather derisively uttered statement.

“But -.”

“The bond merely means that our magic will be combined. Our fates and, by extension, our...deaths are linked if the bond is completed. It is essentially a guarantee that one partner shall not have to live and go on without the other.”

Lauren snapped her mouth shut. His statement, though it had been uttered with casual nonchalance that she almost believed that Snape did not care, did not fool Lauren. She had not missed the pause, as well as the slight hitch in his tone, at the mention of their deaths.

“So right now there’s no real danger of either one of us dropping down dead if the other dies?”

“No.”

“Because the bond isn’t complete?”

“Correct,” he affirmed.

Lauren paused, her gaze trained on him. She hesitated, contemplating whether to ask her next question or not.

Snape huffed impatiently. “Ask your question, Miss Ward.”

“Completing the bond...will it make our combined magic more powerful?”

Snape paused, eyeing her shrewdly. “Not really. What you have witnessed thus far as to what our combined magic can do, is about as good as it gets.”

“So then why bother completing the bond?”

Snape paused. “Because it allows the bond mates to be able to tap into the power of their combined magic without having to physically touch each other to do so. Even across vast distances, that immense power will be at their disposal. You can imagine the allure such a notion holds, especially to those who wish to harness it for nefarious purposes.”

Lauren nodded in understanding. She understood all too well. That power, in the wrong hands, could be catastrophically detrimental. Hence another reason to keep this a secret from Her Royal Highness.

Snape hesitated and she knew he was reluctant to voice a concern. After a few moments, he finally spoke up. “You yourself have experienced the alluring pull of our magic. I believe that as time progresses without the bond being completed, the stronger that pull will become.”

Lauren gasped. “You mean it’s only going to get worse.”

“Hence the reason I suggested the Occlumency lessons.”

“But will it actually help?”

“It has thus far. I have no reason to believe that it shall not continue to do so.”

Lauren glanced down at her hands, suddenly feeling terrified, but not for the reasons Severus thought. How was she supposed tosuppress her growing attraction to Severus on top of resisting the pull of their bond which yearned to be completed and would demand said completion more and more as time marched on? Lauren ad no idea how she was going to get through this.

“Would you ever...consider completing the bond?” she asked. Maybe if they just went through with the silly ritual it would make things easier for the both of them.

“No!” came his immediate response, which sounded more like a cracking of a whip throughout the Hospital Wing. Snape paused to draw in a breath, and when he continued, his tone was even, though strained. “I will not burden you with my fate, Miss Ward. You deserve better than that.”

The last sentence came out as a whisper, almost as though he didn’t really want her to hear this admittance.

Lauren stared back at him with wide eyes, at a loss for words. She suddenly realized that his refusal was purely an act of selflessness instead of selfishness. Snape knew with certainty that he was going to die in the upcoming war, and he was trying to protect Lauren as much as he could. It was the ultimate protection he could offer was by refusing not to complete this bond and ensure her ultimate survival, even though he would not live to see it.

Tears blurred her eyes and Lauren glanced away so that Snape would not see her distress.Her gaze landed on the tightly drawn curtains around her bed, which offered very little privacy for the conversation they were currently having.

_Shit! Anybody could overhear us._

Noting Lauren’s sudden apprehension, Snape followed her line of sight.

“It’s okay. The others have already been restored and have been sent on their merry way and to carry on with their mundane and pathetic lives. We are alone to speak freely, and I have placed certain wards around your bed to ensure we are not overheard.”

Lauren sagged with relief, but then frowned as a thought occurred to her. “You chose to restore me last?” She couldn’t help but sound accusatory, nor could she quell the hurt feeling that had seeped to her very core at this revelation.

“Yes. I needed the others out of the way so that you and I coulddiscuss what needed to be addressed.”

Lauren nodded in understanding, but stillfelt hurt.

“So where do we go from here?” she finally asked.

Snape arched a questioning brow.

“With the bond. What does it mean for us now?” she clarified. She knew Snape did not want to complete it, but she needed to know how they planned on dealing with it.

“Absolutely nothing. As far as I’m concerned, life will carry on as normal. And I intend to ensure that it remains that way,” Snape stated, a slither of reinforced steel entering his tone, letting Lauren know in no uncertain terms would he budge on this. He would never allow this bond to be completed.

Lauren nodded to herself. Snape, she was sure, would succeed with his steely resolve. She, on the other hand, was so royally screwed as she lacked his degree of willpower. But logically she knew they could not go through with it, otherwise their deaths would be linked.

That subject settled, Snape continued. “Now I need to bring up another crucial subject matter, which I feel needs to be addressed before you leave the Hospital Wing.”

Lauren met his gaze and silently waited for him to continue.

“Your inconvenient petrification has brought to light the fact that not only are you not pureblood, but are Muggle-born. Needless to say, you are going to be wading into a pit of serpents when next you come face to face with your fellow Slytherins. There will be much animosity, and they will not treat you...kindly.”

Lauren gave a humourless snort. “That’s okay. It’s not the first time I have been disliked. I can handle them.”

“No doubt you can,” Snape murmured, and then paused. “And what of Draco?”

Lauren felt an unsettling sensation wash over her. It could almost be described as apprehension mixed in with a healthy dose of trepidation. As reluctant as she was to admit it, she had come to value her friendship with the blonde prat. But with the revelation of her blood status now out in the open, there was a very good chance that their friendship would not survive it.

“I take it he has not taken the news of me being a Mudblood very well.”

“Do _not _use that word,” Snape hissed, startling Lauren. She had forgotten how much he detested that word. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and continued on in a more even tone. “He is...being childish in the fact that he is letting his warped ideologies, which have been spoon sped to him since infancy, dictate his way of thinking.”

“So not so good then.” Lauren blew out a huff of air. “Is this the part where you tell me to give him time and he’ll come around?”

Snape gave a soft, yet derisive snort. “Hardly. You know as well as I do that it will not be as easy as that.”

Lauren nodded to herself, tampering down the abject hurt that had settled deep within her chest. The situation with Draco was going to be complicated at best. “And Tracey?”

“Your annoying friend has stood vigil by your bedside on a daily basis.”

Relief flared within her. At least she hadn’t lost someone she considered one of the most important people in her life.

“I suggest you get cleaned up and then head to the Great Hall. A feast has been prepared in honour of the victorious slaying of the Basilisk by the Boy-Who-Lived.” A hint of bitterness had entered his tone. Then like a gust of arctic wind, his mood suddenly changed to shrewdness. “Talking of his victory -.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were,” Lauren countered, wondering where he was going with this. There was always a sense of purpose with Snape, and he was not speaking of this without a reason.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “The diary...”

“What of it?”

“It had a piece of the Dark Lord’s...soul in it.”

Ice froze in her veins as blinding panic enveloped her, and Lauren swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in her throat.

_Shit! Snape’s discovered the secret of the Horcruxes!! _

Seeing the look of panic writ all over her features, Snape continued on in a derisive tone. “Miss Ward, I am a highly intelligent man, as you yourself pointed out a few moments ago. Did you think I would not work it out for myself?”

Knowing there was no way out of this, Lauren drew in a shaky breath and forced herself to meet his gaze head-on. “You weren’t supposed to find out about that until much later on.”

Snape arched a brow. “About the Horcrux?”

“Horcruxes,” she correct, and mentally slapped herself at her blunder.

A very poignant and pregnant pause followed her statement, and one could literally cut the tension that had formed with a knife.

“_Fuck!_” Snape swore, his curse echoing like a resounding gong within the room.

All Lauren could do was stare at him, for Snape very rarely swore.

Snape swiped his hand down over his face, his pale features looking markedly haggard. He turned his back on her and started to pace aggitatedly along her bedside, his brows furrowed as he became lost in thought. Finally he halted.

“How many know of this?”

“Right now it’s just you and I. Though I think Dumbledore is starting to suspect the truth,” she replied hesitantly.

“Miss Ward,” Snape said, shooting her a very condescending look, almost as though she were being particularly stupid. “If you think that he already suspects, the chances are he’s probably already figured it out. Dumbledore is no fool.”

Lauren stared back at Snape, realizing that he was right. Dumbledore possessed a brilliant mind, and if Snape had worked it out so quickly, chances were that the Headmaster had come to the same conclusion not too long ago. Maybe even as early as Harry’s first year here in Hogwarts.”

“Then why is he going to go through all the trouble to gather all the proof he can...” Lauren paused as her mind started connecting the dots. “Oh,” she breathed out. “He’s doing it for Harry’s benefit.”

Snape’s dark eyes glinted at this tidbit of information.

“Though I really do have to wonder why he has to make things so complicated?...” she mused to herself, thinking to the Deathly Hollows. That, in her opinion, had been way too overcomplicated.

“I am often left wondering about the logic behind the old fool’s actions, Miss Ward,” Snape muttered. “It’s his signature trademark to make things as complicated as possible and to be infuriatingly guarded with his secrets.”

Lauren sighed at the truth of his words, though she didn’t dare point out that Snape could be equally secretive. “So many lives could be saved if he was willing and alter things...”

“You know as well as I that once he has made up his mind, he will not budge.”

“Yes, I know that,” Lauren muttered, her thoughts turning bitter as she recalled all those who would perish during the War. She cut her gaze towards Snape, who was staring down at her, his dark eyes fathomless eyes unreadable.

_You could change all that..._

“And what about you?” she asked, feeling it was now time to push him for an answer. Two more years and Voldemort would return to power. It wasn’t much time at all.

Snape’s posture stiffened. “You still want to foolishly reveal all to me in the hopes that future events can be altered.”

“So many lives could be saved,” she protested.

“And many more could be lost because of your idiocy,” he countered sharply, his eyes turning hard and cold like the stone they resembled.

“You don’t think I don’t know the risks?” she countered, almost sounding desperate. She really needed Snape’s help on this, for this was something she could not do on her own.

“No, Miss Ward. I don’t think you have fully contemplated the direness of the consequences that would arise from all of this.”

“So you want me to sit back ad do nothing? You want me to stand byand watchsilently while Draco goes through hell and back? You want me to doabsolutely nothing while the world goes to hell in a hand basket, knowing all the while that I had all the information in my hands to change things and not only prevent a whole lot of suffering, but also save so many lives in the process?”

“War is not easy - people inevitably die. That is a given,” he remarked acidly. “Whether you decide to meddle or not, somebody will die!”

Lauren sat there stunned. “That was harsh,” she finally muttered.

“Tell me, Miss Ward, have you formulated an iron-proof plan that will will not only save the lives you are so desperate to save, but will also guarantee a favourable outcome for the wizarding world in the end.”

“No,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Then you are being an exceptional dunderhead, Miss Ward.”

“That’s why I need your help!”

“What you ask of me is not only irresponsible, but it is also rash and reckless.”

Lauren’s temper flared. “So you’re alright with Draco suffering through all of this? You’re okay with dying?”

“Yes.”

Lauren blinked, stunned by his statement, which had been uttered with such irrevocable honesty and acceptance.

“Well, I’m not,” she stated petulantly.

“And tell me, Miss Ward, what exactly do you plan to do about it?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t plan to sit by and do nothing.”

A cruel chuckle followed her childish remark. “Then you are a bigger fool than I had originally given you credit for.”

Lauren glowered at him. “So that’s it then? You’re not going to help me?”

“No, and I suggest you forget this fool’s quest and stay out of it.”

Lauren couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not only was Snape refusing to help, but he also telling her to forget attempting to do so herself. “How can you say that?”

“Easy. I just did.”

“Severus -.”

“NO!” Snape snarled, his temper snapping violently. His face suddenly mere inches from her. “Involving yourself in events will not only put you in mortal danger, but will ultimately result in your premature death. I’m only going to say this once, Miss Ward.Stay out of it!”

Lauren stared into those dark voids and discerned a flash of something that made her pause.

_He wants me safe. He’s trying to...protect me._

Snape, seeing the dawning realization wash over her features, straightened up abruptly, like a stretched out elastic band snapping back into place.His features werecontorted into a cold and venomous mask as he glowered down at her. Then, without a word, he turned sharply on his heel and marched from the room in a billow of black, his robes snapping at his heels.

Lauren sat dumbfounded in the bed, her mind unable to make sense of what had just happened. The suddenwhite hotanger lanced through her as she recalled how not only was he so accepting of his impending death, but was being rather blase about it.

She viciously flung back the blanket covering her.

_Well, if he won’t help me then I’ll have to somehow do this myself!_

Snape may have warned her against doing such a thing, but he had forgotten something very important: Lauren was not one to blindly follow orders. Not now, not ever.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren stood rooted to the spot just on the other side of the barrier of the doors of the Great Hall. Warm, golden light seeped through the gap between the door and floor, inviting and alluring as she stood in the dimly lit passageway, unable to make that final step to enter its domain.

For all intents and purposes, Lauren was stalling. Once she opened the doorsa blinding spotlight would be cast upon her. Whispers and stares would surely follow in her wake.

_Nothing __I really care about__, _she thought.

So why then was she reluctant to enter?

_Draco._

Lauren had to admit that she was not looking forward to his reaction, which was not going to be good no matter which way she looked at it.

She sighed and rested her forehead against the smooth wood of the door, bubbling laughter and excited chattering making its way to her ears.

Her tumultuousthoughts shifted to her earlier conversation with Snape, and anger welled within her once again.

“I find that sometimes it’s best not to delay the inevitable and just get it over and done with,” a grandfatherly rumble sounded from behind her.

Lauren cracked open her eyes, inwardly groaning as she really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the Headmaster right now. But she also had a bone to pick with him.

Lauren slowly turned around. Dumbledore was peering at her from over the rims of his half-moon glasses, his bright blue eyes twinkling. Tonight he wore an eyesore turquoise robe with a matching pointed hat, and she valiantlytried to ignore the mustard yellow embroideries of Snitches stitched onto the thick material.

“All of this could have been avoided,” she ground out. She was still fuming and had decided to take her anger out on the first available person, who happened to be the last person she should be spoiling for a fight with. “I could have told you about the Basilisk and have saved Harry from going through all of that – something no twelve-year-old should have to go through.”

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore mused, clasping his hands in front of him. Her eyes were automatically drawn to his right hand which, in a few years, would become withered and black as it slowly became consumed by a curse that would ultimately try and kill him. “But in the long run, do you think avoidance will help Harry win this war? He needs to be prepared for what is coming.”

Lauren rubbed her hand tiredly over her forehead, feeling a headache forming – a headache that almost always seemed to arise whenever she spoke to the Headmaster. It was like playing a chess game with him, always speaking in riddles, and she found she constantly had to be on high alert around him.

“No, but maybe telling him the whole truth and preparing him accordingly would be more beneficial.”

Dumbledore did not immediately answer and she glanced up to see him staring at a spot on the door, his eyes narrowed as he became lost in thought.

“That is not for you to decide, Miss Ward,” he finally murmured.

“But you get to play God and make those decisions?” she shot back, her voice dripping with venom.

Dumbledore met her gaze and gave her an infuriatingly crooked smile that dripped with serenity. “I am not playing God. I am merely preparing the boy.”

Lauren shook her head. “Again, there are better ways to do so. All this could be avoided.”

“And tell me, Miss Ward, what twelve-year-old could handle the truth about a fate such as this?”

“I think you give Harry far too little credit.”

“And I think you give Professor Snape far too much credit,” he countered, giving her a very pointed look.

Lauren stilled, wondering how the hell the Headmaster had found out that she had asked for Severus’ help. She doubted Snape would confide something like this to him.

“You place too much of a burden upon his shoulders,” Dumbledore continued, his tone still grandfatherly. “Don’t you think that he already has enough to worry about?”

Guilt twisted in Lauren’s gut, but she refused to back down. “Well, it’s better than having his death on my conscious.

Dumbledore sighed. “You may not realize it yet, Miss Ward, but your presence in his life may ultimately be the cause of his death.”

Lauren frowned in confusion. “How? The bond isn’t complete...”

Dumbledore gave her a small smile that was tinged with sadness and regret. “Your safety has become his top priority, it would seem. He may not have freely expressed it, but your petrification left him...unsettled. I’ve never seen him so tightly wound up, not in a very long time.”

Lauren’s frown deepened. She had suspected that Snape had been concerned for her safety, but having Dumbledore confirm it somehow cemented it deep within her core.

Dumbledore continued. “Professor Snape’s part in this war is vital if we are to win, Miss Ward. I cannot impress upon you enough how important he is. You distracting him is not only a great hindrance, but it will also put his life in jeopardy when he acts as spy for the Order when Voldemort returns to power. I need him to stay focused on his task, instead of being constantly worried about your safety.”

Lauren was silent as she mulled over his sane logic. Would she be putting Snape’s life and safety in danger if she continued on her quest to change events? Probably. But in the end, if she stayed out of it, Snape would die. And she couldn’t let that happen.

“You forget one thing. He _is _going to die. That is his fate.” she asked.

“I think,” Dumbledore stated, “that a large part of him died in Godric’s Hallow that night many years ago.”

Sudden tears sprang to her eyes at the brutal truth of his statement. Yes, a large part of Snape had died with Lily, and now he was merely staying alive long enough to ensure that her son lived through this.

And her ‘distraction’, as Dumbledore had so kindly put it, could be the cause of Snape’s premature death before he could fulfill his promise.

Lauren dropped her gaze, trying to quell the uneasy feeling that her interference would cause more damage than good.

A gnarled hand patted her gently upon her shoulder, but Lauren drew very little comfort from the gesture.

“Life is cruel, Miss Ward, and we are sometimes dealt cards that seem impossible to play with.”

Sudden anger at the injustice of it burst forth. “Then why the hell was I brought here?” she ranted, shrugging violently out of his grasp.

Dumbledore’s hand fell to his side. “I do not know, Miss Ward.”

Lauren could have cried in frustration at how unfair it all was.

Thenher conversationwith the Sorting Hat came to the forefront, and she knew that if she wanted to help Snape without hindering him, she was going to have to play this like a true Slytherin: with cunning and shrewdness. Those were going to be vital assets to winning this war.

She drew in a deep breath through her nose and slowly exhaled, drawing on her Occlumency to harness her emotions.

“Very well. I’ll stay out of the way. I don’t want to be the cause of his death.”

Silence stretched out before Headmaster and student as they stared at each other, and something flashed within those intelligent eyes, so quick Lauren was sure she had imagined it. It was almost pleased, a look of guarded triumph.

“Very good, Miss Ward. Now a wondrous feast awaits you on the other side of these doors.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it wondrous when I will be facing a pit of serpents,” Lauren muttered, echoing Snape’s earlier words.

“A challenge I think you are quite capable of taking on,” Dumbledore mused. “Nothing is ever impossible when you put your mind to it.”

Before she could formulate a response, Dumbledore turned on his heel and walked away.

Lauren watched him, an eerie sense filling her senses that there had been a double meaning behind his words. She almost had the feeling that she had just been played, but she wasn’t exactly sure how.

_What the hell are you playing at, Dumbledore?_

Knowing she would be there for years trying to figure out how his mind worked, Lauren decided to instead focus on the task at hand. She turned around, facing the doors once more, anddrew in a steadying breath. Then she pushed open the door, warm bright light bathing her in its golden glow, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness of it.

A sudden andimmediate hushdescended upon the Hall, andshe could feel every pair of eyes trained on her, watching and waiting.Clenching her jaw, she held her head up high and marched straight towards the Slytherin table in true Lauren fashion, ignoring the stares and muttering that followed in her wake.

Something caught her eye and, turning her head, she glimpsed Hermione watching her with a slight frown marring her features. Lauren could practically see the cogs spinning in the other girl’s head as she tried to work out who Lauren truly was. Lauren knew she had blundered by revealing too much in that library, but it was done now and she couldn’t go back and undo it. Unless she had a time turner, and she doubted Dumbledore would let her get her hands on that.

Her gaze flickered towards Harry who was also watching her with green eyes that were brimming with calculating assessment. She knew she was going to have to be more careful around the Trio from now on.

Lauren tore her gaze away and made her way to the Slytherin table. Tracey leapt from her seat and all but ran to Lauren, encompassing her in a bone crunching hug.

“I wanted to be there when they revived you, but Snape all but shoved me out of the Hospital Wing,” Tracey explained, regret tinting her voice as she clung to her friend. “I was so worried about you, Lauren. Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Lauren awkwardly patted her back. “I’m okay,” she assured. Then turning her head slightly, she whispered in Tracey’s ear, “I take it Draco is not too enthusiastic about the news of me being Muggle-born.”

“He’s...not happy about it,” Tracey admitted. “The rest of the Slytherins aren’t too thrilled, either.”

Lauren really didn’t give two hoots about the others, though she suspected life was going to be difficult from now on. She could live with their animosity. Draco, on the other hand...

Tracey pulled away, and seeing the strained look on Lauren’s face, she came to a decision and gently took Lauren’s hand in her own, guiding her to a seat next to her.

“Just ignore them,” she muttered as dark glares ensuedfrom her fellow Slytherins.

“I had every intention of doing just that,” Lauren stated, helping herself to pork chops, scalloped potatoes smothered in a creamy mushroom sauce, and a healthy side serving of carrots and peas, even though her appetite was almost nonexistent.

Tracey engaged Lauren in lighthearted conversation, and Lauren was grateful for the distraction she was offering, forshe had a lot weighing down on her mind.Her gaze was drawn to Draco, and her heart constricted painfully in her chest when she sawhim scowling darkly at her, not even bothering to hide his contempt. Lauren didn’t know why, but his attitude towards her bothered her more than the entire Slytherin House put together.

The feast came to an end, along with the announcement that end of year exams had been cancelled (this was met with much applause and enthusiasm from the entire school – except Hermione Granger, of course), and soon all were dismissed. The Great Hall erupted into a sea of congested movement as everybody headed back to their respective dormitories.

Lauren and Tracey hung back, waiting until they were the last few stragglers left behind.

“So tell me what happened?” Tracey asked, reverting to her serious Wednesday Addam personaas they followed at a long distance behind the crowd.

Lauren paused. How could she tell Tracey without revealing too much of the actual truth? “I went to the Hospital Wing, but Madam Pomfrey wasn’t there. So I decided to head down to the library to start studying for exams as I really didn’t feel like going to the Quidditch match.”

Tracey eyed her with skepticism at the flimsy lie Lauren had just told. Lauren avoided studying whereverpossible, and it was usually Tracey who strong-armed her into doing so.

“Anyway,” Lauren hurried on, “when I got there it was just Hermione, the Ravenclaw girl, and myself. Hermione had just discovered that it was a Basilisk that was attacking the students. We heard a noise and decided to transfigure some books into mirrors to be on the safe side. And then...we were petrified.”

Tracey was silent for the longest while, and Lauren could discern that she did not fully believe her version of events. Finally she spoke up. “There’s a lot of holes in that story, Lauren.”

Lauren remained silent, praying that Tracey wouldn’t press her further for the truth.

Tracey pressed her lips together and turned her gaze forward. “One day I hope you will come to trust me enough to confide in me, Lauren.”

Guilt twisted in Lauren’s gut. She did trust Tracey – wholeheartedly - but she could not tell her this truth. Not now. Maybe not ever.

The moment stretched out between them, Lauren not knowing what to say to her friend.

“But I’m glad you’re okay,” Tracey said softly.

Lauren gave her friend a weak smile, relieved that not only was she dropping the subject, but that she was still choosing to remain by her side despite the obvious concealment of truth. “Thanks. Me, too.”

This was enough to mollify the girl.

A thought occurred to Lauren and she turned her attention to her friend as they made their way down the stairs that led to the dungeons.

“So...Lockhart?”

Tracey immediately grimaced. “Don’t ever mention that moron’s name again!” she ground out through clenched teeth.

Lauren’s chuckle echoed against the rough stone walls. “So what do you plan to do with that painting that you were so keen to hang above your bed.”

“It’s soon going to end up somewhere at the bottom of the Black Lake.”

Lauren shook her head in amusement, wondering if the contestants in the upcoming Triwizard Tournament would perhaps stumble upon it. That would be hilarity in itself.

“I pity the poor mermaids,” Lauren muttered.

Tracey shot her a look, but the corners of her mouth twitched as she visualized a mermaid discovering Lockhart’s picture.

They soon reached the Slytherin Common Room. It was deserted as all the Slytherins had retired for bed.

All except one.

Draco’s platinum blonde head could be seen peeking from over the back of the moss green leather couch as he sat in front of the warm fire crackling in the ornate hearth.

Lauren hesitated.

“Go speak to him,” Tracey urged in a hushed whisper.

Lauren glanced uncertainly at her friend, wondering how she was possibly going to make things right between her and Draco.

Tracey squeezed her shoulder in encouragement and waltzed off to the girl’s dormitory, leaving Lauren and Draco alone.

Silence descended like an iron curtain in the room and Lauren knew it was now or never.Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, she steeled herself and made her way over to the couch facing Draco.

She settled down stiffly upon the plush leather cushioning, noting that Draco was refusing to meet her gaze, let alone acknowledge her presence.He instead kept his focus trained on the flickering orange and golden flames dancing in the fireplace.

“Draco -,” she started, but Draco immediately cut her off.

“So you’re a Mudblood.” His voice, though carefully controlled, held a certain degree of restrained anger that was threatening to boil over.

Lauren swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. “It would seem so.”

Draco slowly turned his head to look at her, the flames from the fire reflecting within his ice blue eyes and foreshadowing the simmering rage that was brewing just below the surface. Rage like that often stemmed from abject hurt.

The seconds ticked by, stretching into a full uncomfortable minute.

“Is that going to be a problem?” she asked evenly, her tone belying the churning fear that was fermenting in the pit of her stomach. As loathe as she was to admit it, she really didn’t want to lose her friendship with the blonde prat.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, tearing his gaze away and crossing his arms tightly across his chest. A deep frown was now furrowing his brow as she scowled darkly to himself.

_Well, he hasn’t outright said no, so that’s a good sign..._

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Draco. I need to know whether you can look past this, whether you can put your biasness aside and that we can continue to be...friends?” The last words came out in a pained whisper.

“I don’t know,” he reiterated, his tone low but his words cutting like a sharp knife.

Tears sprang unbidden to Lauren’s eyes and she had to glance away from the boy to hide them.

“It didn’t matter before, being my friend. Why should my blood status change anything?” she asked.

His answer didn’t come immediately, kindling a ray of hope within Lauren.

But his next words, instantly crushed that hope.

“Because you’re a filthy Mudblood, and I cannot be friends with you!” Draco abruptly rose to his feet and marched from the room, his anger palpable and buffering off of him in waves.

Lauren watched him leave, her heart twisting painfully within her chest. She was dead certain that she had lost him forever as a friend, and she didn’t know how to fix it. That thought alone was enough to crush her.

Lauren drew in a shaky breath and let her tears fall, silent and unheard as she sat alone in the room, the moment echoing what the near future held in store for her.


	32. Chapter 32

A crumpled ball of paper went flying through the air, followed by a frustrated growl, and hit against the metal screen of the unlit fireplace, bouncing off of it and coming to land amongst the other balls of paper that were littering the floor.

Lauren was currently seated on the couch, her legs drawn up and a notebook resting against her knees as she chewed on the end of her pen in contemplative thought. Even after two years of being in the magical world of Harry Potter, Lauren still favoured a good old fashioned pen over a quill. There was less mess and fuss involved.

A deep frown furrowed her brows as she stared at the notebook, her frustration mounting to new heights.

For three whole weeks she had been cooped up in this house trying to formulate a somewhat plausible plan as to how she could alter future events and still achieve a favourable outcome for the war. But each time she came back to the same conclusion: it was going to be near impossible without help.

Lauren drummed her pen against the thick sheets of paper that was waiting patiently for her to scrawl down something useful onto it.

She had entertained the idea of going after the Horcruxes herself. The Ravenclaw diadem would be easy enough to find in the Room of Requirement. The locket, was going to be more problematic. She would somehow have to gain entrance into the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and try and snatch it away from Kreacher.

Then there was the ring that held the very nasty curse that would prove to be Dumbledore’s downfall. Lauren knew it was currently holed up in Marvolo Gaunt’s shack somewhere on the outskirts of a village. But which village? Lauren, for the life of her, could not recall the name stated in the books, and she had no way to access his records to find out.

Lauren sighed and considered her other options.

Tom Riddle’s diary had already been destroyed, so at least that was one Horcrux she didn’t have to worry about.

The cup of Hufflepuff, though, was not going to as easy. Lauren hadn’t the foggiest idea of its current whereabouts. She knew that once Bellatrix Lestrange escaped Azkaban and joined Her Royal Highness, he would entrust its safety to the bat shit crazy bitch and she in turn would put it in her vault. But as for where it was right now? That information was very much a mystery.

And then there was Nagini. Lauren held a high suspicion that the Snake had not been made into a Horcrux yet, not until Voldemort rose to power and had a physical form to perform that ritual.

Another growl escaped Lauren’s lips, punctuating the eerie stillness that permeated the room.

Even if, by some miraculous divine intervention, she managed to get her hands on all the Horcruxes, what then? Having those vile and evil things in her possession did not settle well with her. Lauren didn’t trust herself not to succumb to the alluring temptation each Horcrux held, and she knew she was not strong willed enough to resist them. She would need to destroy them immediately. And right now Lauren had no means of destroying them. She did not have a Basilisk fang hidden somewhere in her pocket, and she did not speak Parseltongue as to be able to gain entrance to the Chamber of Secrets to get one. Nor did she have the sword of Gryffindor at her disposal.

Fiendfyre was another option, but that was a very volatile spell and extremely hard to control. At her current magical skill level, Lauren knew she would not be able to control it and would probably accidentally set it loose to cause rampaging destruction in its wake.

_I could ask Snape to teach me the spell and how to control it..._

Lauren scoffed to herself. She had not seen any sign of Snape inthe three weeks since the Summer holidays had begun. He had collected her from the Slytherin dormitory and dropped her off at her home without a single word spoken to her the whole time. Then he had departed just as abruptly without a backward glance.

His behaviour had hurt Lauren more than she liked to admit.

Lauren knew that this impenetrable wall he had currently erected around himself stemmed from the fact that Snape had inadvertently shown her his vulnerable side by revealing that he did, in fact, care for her. And that did not settle well with him. Snape was not one to reveal his true feeling or emotions, often keeping the mask of arrogance and haughtiness in place to ward off such familiarity with others and, by extension, avoid getting hurt.

So, in true Severus Snape fashion, he was choosing to push her away and keep her at arm’s length, refusing to allow her to get too close again.

Lauren hated that he was reverting to such measures, but there was nothing she could do about it. Snape, she had learned was a very difficult man. The more she tried to push, the more impenetrable his walls became. All she could hope was that he would eventually come around and let her in.

_Why did I have to develop feeling for him, of all people?_

Lauren closed her eyes and rested her head back against the couch, a headache starting to pound within her skull.

_Why him?_

Lauren knew there was no rhyme or reason when emotions were involved, and she desperately wished she could turn them off like a switch. But that was impossible. So right now she was going to have to compartmentalize and keep her feelings in check.

_Easier said than done, _she thought derisively.

Her thoughts drifted once more to the Horcruxes and the impending war, and a feeling of utter defeat washed over her, the whole situation seemingly hopeless. She had no help whatsoever, and Lauren was not too proud to admit that she was not smart enough to even attempt to accomplish this all on her own.

_I will end up fucking this up one way or the other, and probably cause Voldemort to succeed in his quest for world domination..._

Lauren cracked open her eyes and stared up aimlessly at the ceiling.

_Snape _ _i_ _s right. I’m a fool for even entertaining the idea of trying to _ _alter_ _ things without an iron proof plan..._

A sigh escaped her lips and Lauren closed her eyes again, a weary fatigue settling over her body and seeping through right into her bones.

She had not been sleeping well these past three weeks, thoughts of her fractured relationship with Snape, as well as her extinguished friendship with Draco playing heavy on her mind. It was as though she had lost two very important pieces of her soul, those pieces having being ripped out cruelly, and it hurt. Mentally, physically and emotionally, it hurt.

All this had caused her nightmares to resurface, plaguing her sleep every night.

Lauren would wake up in a cold and clammy sweat, the remnants of hearing her father’s heavy treads ascending the staircase as he came searching for her, or the feel of each blow as Deacon swung the baseball bat down upon her clinging to her subconscious.

Oddly enough, these nightmares had been at a bare minimal while she resided at Hogwarts, the school offering her some form of solace and safety, andmanaging to keep the nightmares at bay. But here, alone in her house, they were now plaguing her incessantly.

Lauren groaned and struggled into an upright position, her tired body protesting at the movement. She could not dwell on_those_ memories. Not right now. Right now she had more important things to worry about.

She eyed the blank notepad once more.

_So, right now, Horcrux hunting is out of the question. _

The end of the pen found its way once more to her mouth, and Lauren gnawed thoughtfully on it. Then a sudden idea popped into her mind.

_Maybe I can kill Peter Pettigrew..._

Lauren’s eyes narrowed as she contemplated the alluringthought.

_I could probably do it..._

But after a few moments of careful deliberation, Lauren had to grudgingly discard the idea. Pettigrew, for one, was elusive as they came and it would be near impossible to find him in his rat form, especially since he was going to spend most of his time this year hiding once news of Sirius’ escape from Azkaban reached his ears. Then there was also the fact that his premature ‘death’ would cause all kinds of unforeseeablecomplications. The most important being that Voldemort needed to return to his physical from in order to be defeated in the end by Harry. And in order for that to happen, Pettigrew needed to live.

Lauren’s grip on her pen tightened, her knuckles turning white. She would love nothing more than to off that snivelling, good-for-nothing, flea infestedrodent, but she couldn’t.If she changed this part in the story, everything could go belly-up.

_Maybe I should find Sirius and talk to him. Maybe he can help me..._

Lauren paused, mulling over that thought. Did she really want Sirius’ help? Right now he was hell-bent on exacting revenge on Pettigrew, and was not clearly in the right frame of mind, especially since being locked up in Azkaban for so long, which undoubtedly had made him a little unhinged. Then there was also the fact that he was rash and hotheaded. He was a loose cannon, and Lauren wasn’t sure if she could trust him completely not to mess things up even further.

_Right now I need levelheadedness and cunning...traits Sirius lacks._

Lauren wanted to cry in frustration, for the traits she sorely needed were the exact traits Snape possessed.

_And if I team up with Sirius, Snape will never forgive me, especially after all Sirius did to him. _

Her thoughts drifted back to Snape, as they always seemed to do of late.

_Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. The Sorting Hat did state that I was here to help Severus. It mentioned nothing about getting involved with anything else._

Lauren stilled.

_Snape is the reason I’m here...I need to help him..._

This thought did not send feelings of hope blossoming within her like it should have. Once again, helping Snape was going to be almost impossible.

_In order _ _to save him, I’m going to have to brew a_ _n exceptionally_ _ good antivenom _ _to counter_ _ Nagini’s poison..._ _A_ _nd in order to do that, I need to get my hands on said poison, which is _ _impossible right now._

Lauren had not been idle on this front either. She had searched every book of poisons and antidotes currently nestled in Bethany Ward’s vast library, and had thus far found nothing that could even remotely counteract Nagini’s venom and in turn save Snape.

Nagini was a very special and magical snake, with a unique poison coursing through her fangs. Over-the-counter antivenom would be useless and ineffective against her particularvenom.

Once again Lauren found herself at a dead end.

In a fit of temper, she flung the notebook against the screen of the fireplace, causing a resounding clang to echo throughout the room.

_I have no antivenom, no way of destroying Horcruxes, no way of succeeding in any of this! Why the fuck am I here if I can’t do a damn thing about anything?!_

Leaning forward, Lauren cradled her head in her hands, her elbows digging into her knees. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes at the hopelessness of her situation crashed down upon her.

_I’m so fucking alone in all of this..._

Lauren knew, logically, that it was no use wallowing in self pity, but she was exhausted and frustrated at the hopelessness of it all. Not to mention lonely.

_Draco wants nothing to do with me. Snape is keeping his distance. Even my blasted bird has deserted me in favour of being with Severus instead of me..._

A mental nudge startled her from the pits of her wallowing, and Lauren slowly raised her head, confusion flittering across her features.

The mental nudge came again, more persistent, and she realized that someone was seeking permission to enter her home via the Floo network.

_Dumbledore and Snape have automatic entrance to this place...they don’t need my permission to enter. So who could it be?_

Lauren concentrated on the mental signature and startled when she recognized it as belonging to Tracey.

Lauren hastily withdrew her wand from her arm sheath and vanished the discriminating notes littering the hard wood floors of the library. She could not risk Tracey catching a glimpse of what was written on them.

Then she mentally concentrated on allowing the other girl entrance.

A second later a resounding clattering reverberated throughout the room as Tracey barrelled into the screen of the fireplace, both collapsing noisily into a heap on the floor.

“Oops. I forgot to remove that,” Lauren stated as she hastily scrambled to help her friend up.

Tracey shot her a dark scowl, but after a moment of grumbling she accepted Lauren’s aid. Lauren eyed her soot smeared friends and, without thinking, withdrew her wand and vanished the dirt from the other girl.

Then, resheathing her wand, Lauren glanced up to see Tracey eyeing her suspiciously.

“What?” Lauren asked.

“You just did magic outside of school,” Tracey stated after a moment’s pause.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! _Lauren mentally slapped herself at her blunder. _How could I have been so careless?_

“How are you able to perform magic outside of school?” Tracey pressed.

“Um...” _Think fast, Lauren! _“...Special privileges from Dumbledore. You know, him being my guardian and all,” Lauren stated lamely, shoving her hands deep into her jean pockets and trying to keep a very innocent look plastered on her face.

Tracey’s eyes narrowed at her failed attempt. “Guardian or not, I don’t think Dumbledore has the power to let you to use magic outside of school, Lauren. I don’t think even the Minister of Magic has that kind of power.”

Lauren shrugged stiffly, trying to feign ignorance. “How should I know? All I know is that I’m allowed to do magic.”

_Goddammit, I really need to work on my acting skills, _Lauren thought as she inwardly cringed, part of her briefly contemplating whether it would be ethical or not to Obliviate her friend.

The two girls stared at each other for the longest time. Finally Tracey mused out loud, “I suppose Dumbledore really does have that kind of power...”

Lauren could have sagged in relief that Tracey had accepted her feeble excuse, but one look at her friend told her that was not the situation at all. Tracey was regarding her with shrewdness, not believing for one second the lie, but she was choosing to drop it.

“So what brings you here?” Lauren asked in deflection.

“I haven’t heard from you in three weeks, Lauren.”

“Yeah,” Lauren drew out. “My raven decided to do a disappearing act.” _And is currently taking up residence with his favourite Master._

“You could have Floo called,” Tracey pointed out.

Lauren ran a hand through her tangled mass of dark waves, wincing as her fingers snagged on a knot. “Been kinda preoccupied.”

“About Draco?” Tracey asked, her tone tinged with soft concern.

“Yeah,” Lauren replied, grabbing at the plausible excuse Tracey was offering her. She couldn’t very well tell her friend the true reason for her current preoccupation of late. Tracey would be horrified at learning about Voldemort’s Horcruxes, and she would definitely be repulsed at Lauren’s inappropriate crush on her acerbic Potion’s Professor. “Have you heard from him.”

Tracey shook her head, her sleek bob barely shifting with the movement. “Not a word. It’s like he’s avoiding me as well.”

A heaviness settled deep within Lauren’s core, and she gave a small nod, deciding to remain silent at this news.

“He’ll come around, Lauren,” Tracey stated, trying to sound reassuring.

“I don’t think so, Tracey. His biasness with blood purity is too deep rooted.”

Tracey gave a small nod, having too come to this same conclusion herself. “I do miss him, though.”

“Me, too,” Lauren admitted.

Silence stretched before them as Tracey gazed at her, her eyes narrowing as she keenly observed Lauren’s sleep deprived appearance.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

Tracey’s frown deepened. Lauren knew she wanted to say more, but was choosing to hold her tongue. Her friend gave a small nod of her head and said, “I actually came here to see if you wanted to join me and my family for the rest of the Summer holiday?”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re my friend and I like having you around,” Tracey stated simply.

A sudden lump formed in Lauren’s throat. Never, not once in her childhood, had she formed a close enough friendship with another to warrant an invitation to spend the holidays with their family. The fact that Tracey, as well as her parents, liked her enough to welcome her into their fold was almost disconcerting.

“I promise there will be no Barbies involved,” Tracey teased, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

Lauren blinked, at a loss for words. _Do I really want to leave __right now __and give up __the rest of the Summer __trying to find a solution to this whole mess?_

Lauren was about to refuse, but the thought of remaining here in this hollow house, slowly going mad with loneliness and the helplessness of her situation was almost too daunting.

_Maybe a break is what I need..._

“Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?” she stated, a smile of her own stretching upon her lips.

Tracey’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, but then she reverted back to seriousness once more. “Dumbledore won’t mind?”

“I barely see him,” Lauren stated. “I don’t think he will care one way or the other.”

_All he cares about is keeping me away from his spy..._Lauren thought irritably.

Tracey’s eyes widened fractionally at this proclamation. “You should let him know, though...with him being your guardian and all”

Lauren sighed, suddenly desperate to escape the confines of this house, which was starting to feel like a repressive prison of late.

“Blinky!” she hollered out.

In the blink of an eye, the house elf was suddenly by her side, staring up at her with enormous bulbous eyes.

“Mistress wanted Blinky?” she squeaked out, her voice shrill and sharp to the ears.

Lauren stared down at the diminutive elf, a dawning realization suddenly hitting her like a ton of bricks.

_This is how Dumbledore found out about me asking Snape for help. _ _Blinky. _ _A house elf is_ _ the perfect spy, able to sneak around unnoticed and unheard_ _..._

The seconds ticked by, Blinky staring up at Lauren expectantly.

Snapping out of her sudden revelation, Lauren stated, “Please tell Dumbledore, and whoever else, that I will be spending the remainder of the Summer holidays with Tracey and her family.”

Blinky blinked once. If she noted the sudden steeliness that had entered Lauren’s tone, she did not show it.

Then the elf gave a low bow and disappeared with a resounding _crack _that startled both girls. Lauren scowled at the spot in which the house elf had stood just seconds earlier, inwardly fuming at the deception she had just unearthed.

_I can’t even _ _have privacy_ _ in my own house. I should have known Dumbledore would have been spying on me by any means possible. _ _It’s a_ _ pity really _ _because_ _ I quite liked that elf. _ _I’m now going to_ _ have to be careful _ _about_ _ what I say and do from now on..._

Tracey, clearly had noted the sudden change in Lauren’s demeanour, and arched a questioning brow at her friend.

“I’ll just go and pack my stuff quickly,” Lauren stated.

With that she hastily exited the living room and made her way to her bedroom and proceeded to pack all the essentials she would need for a few weeks away. She paused, briefly contemplating whether to Floo Snape and let him know where she was going, but decided that her newly found spy would see to it that he found out one way or the other.

_And it’s not like he particularly wants to talk to me right now, the stubborn, infuriating git..._

Lauren headed back into the library to find Tracey standing before one of thebookshelves, her hands clasped behind her back as her observant eyes skimmed over the titles of the various leather bound tomes.

“You know, there was speculation a long time ago that Bethany Ward had a child...” Tracey mused out loud.

Lauren deposited her bag to the floor, frowning as she tried to figure out how this was relevant. “Oh? How did you find that out?”

Tracey turned around to face Lauren. “My dad works at the Ministry, remember. After I told him about you being Muggle-born, he decided to look into your family tree records.”

“And what did he find out?”

Tracey shrugged. “Not much. The Ward line stops at Bethany. Then you show up, which means that you are a distant Muggle-born relative.”

“And Bethany’s child?”

“That was just a story. There is no actual proof, though. And the fact that the child is not found on the family tree means that there is no truth to that rumour.It was all just wild speculation.”

“Okay,” Lauren said, drawing out the word. “And you decided to mention this, why?”

“I just thought you might find it interesting to know.”

Lauren nodded to herself, briefly pondering this mystery child. Deciding it really didn’t matter and didn’t really pertain to her, Lauren hefted up her bag from the floor and slung it over her shoulder.

“Ready?”

Tracey’s face split into a wide grinand she gave a single nod of her head before grabbing Lauren by the elbow and steering her towards to fireplace, both of them careful to step around the fallen over screen.

Tracey grabbed a fistful of Floo powder from the pot above the mantle and flung it into the fireplace, causing the flames to turn a brilliant emerald green hue. Both girls stepped in and were soon transported to their destination in a spinning, dizzying flurry. No matter how often she used this mode of transportation, Lauren could not get used to the discomfiture of it all.

_All the magic in the world and they can’t find a better way to get from point A to point B in a less stomach churning manner, _Lauren thought mulishly as she stepped out of the fireplace and into Tracey’s home.

She paused as she took in her surroundings. Lauren didn’t know what she had expected, but it certainly hadn’t been the warm, homely feel of this modest house in which she was currently standing.

Lauren would have guessed that Tracey, a Slytherin, would have come from old money and an upper class background. Instead, though, Lauren found that the home of the Davis’ was almost completely Muggle-like inside and out, and had a rather welcoming and comforting feel to it.

The living room was spacious, though not grandeur, with two plush couches of a warm brown hue facing a modest television, which was currently turned off and the screen blank. Warm summer sunlight filtered into the room through the large bay windows framed by cream coloured drapes, and plushfawn hued carpeting laid beneath their feet.

As Lauren stepped further into the room, she noted the many pictures adorning the walls, each one depicting Tracey from stages of infancy to her current age, each one unmoving and obviously Muggle photos. A large family portrait hung above the fireplace, Silas and Persephone Davis standing behind their seated daughter, and all three wearing beaming and genuine smiles that reached their sparkling eyes.

_This is what a happy family looks like, _Lauren mused to herself, feeling a twinge of envy at the fact that she never got to experience that with her real mother and father. Jennifer had been the closest she had known to a normal and loving mother, and she had been cruelly taken from her all too soon.

“My mother refused to live in the wizarding world. She felt much more comfortable living here in the Muggle world,” Tracey explained, looking slightly uncomfortable at Lauren’s observation.

Lauren turned around to face her friend. “I think it’s wonderful,” she enthused, throwing her friend a reassuring smile. Tracey’s eyes widened in surprise, but then a small smile of her own graced her lips.

“Oh, hello Lauren dear,” came Persephone Davis’ greeting as she entered the living room. Lauren was taken aback once more at how much mother and daughter looked alike, though the younger Davis was dressed in faded jeans and a black shirt, while her mother had chosen to don a simple, yet elegant red summer dressed splashed tastefully with rose prints.

“Hello, Mrs Davis. Thank you for inviting me,” Lauren greeted back, making sure to remember her manners.

Persephone gave her a warm, sunny smile. “Oh, you’re very welcome here any time, Lauren. After what Tracey told us about...what happened at school, we thought you could do with some friendly company. It’s not good to be alone at a time like this.”

Lauren had to swallow down the lump that had formed in her throat at the genuine concern that radiated from the older woman, for very rarely had anyone, beside Jennifer, shown motherly affection towards her.

Lauren gave a single nod of her head and whispered, “Thank you,” trying hard to ignore the sudden raspy tone that had entered her voice.

Mrs Davis closed the distance and laid a gentle and motherly hand upon her slim shoulder. “Any time, Lauren.” Then turning to Tracey she added, “Your father will be home in a few hours for dinner. Why don’t you show Lauren around and help her settle in until then?”

Tracey nodded and grabbed Lauren by the elbow, all but steering out of the room, Persephone’s amused smile following the two girls’ wake.

The Davis house was by no means considered a manor, but it was comfortable with each room exuding character and homeliness that could only be found in a loving home.

“So have you decided which elective subjects you’re taking this year?” Tracey asked as they made their way up the staircase to her bedroom.

“Care of Magical Creatures and Study of Ancient Runes.” Lauren had been quite tempted to drop Care of Magical Creatures as the thought of enduring Hagrid’s idea of class friendly creatures was almost off putting, but Math was not her strong suit, so that put Arithmancy out of the equation. And there was no way in hell she was going to take Divination. Also, Muggle Studies was almost a joke, considering she had grown up in the Muggle world. “What about you?”

“Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination.”

Lauren groaned. “Divination! Why, Tracey? Trelawney is a fraud. _Well, mostly, _Lauren thought.

“Runes don’t interest me, and neither does Arithmancy. So that left Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Divination. My options were limited.”

They entered Tracey’s room, and Lauren was taken aback by the bright colours that permeated the room. From the lilac drapes to the matching bedspread emblazoned with butterflies adorning the bunk bed, as well as the equally matching area rug, Lauren was sure she had entered the wrong room.

Turning to her friend, she stated, “I thought your tastes ranged more on the...Goth side.”

Tracey rolled her eyes skywards. “No, Lauren. I am quite fond of purple.”

“And butterflies by the looks of it,” Lauren muttered as she eyed the decor that seemed so out of place for her studious friend. The only thing that looked like it remotely belonged to Tracey was the desk and the large bookshelf lined with books. Judging by the worn covers, each was well read and obviously a favourite to the girl to have earned a place here in her room.

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with butterflies.”

“No, not at all,” Lauren agreed. Turning to her friend, she flashed her an impish smile. “It’s much better than the Lockhart decor.”

Tracey’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t mention that idiot.”

Lauren tried to suppress her grin, but failed miserably when she recalled Tracey tossing the portrait of a protesting Lockhart into the Black Lake. That had been one of the singularly most satisfying moments of her life.

“I’m glad you have seen reason, Davis,” she drawled.

Tracey shook her head. “You and Draco are so much alike.”

Lauren sobered immediately at the mention of the blonde prat, the utterance of his name stinging more than it should have.

“I’m sorry, Lauren,” Tracey immediately amended.

“It’s okay, Tracey. I just hope he eventually comes around and sees reason.”

“Me, too.”

“Have you tried writing to him?”

Tracey shook her head. “No, I thought it best to give him time and let him come to us when he’s ready.”

“That might be a long wait.”

“He will come back, Lauren. You can’t lose hope.”

Lauren decided not to argue that Draco was about as stubborn and pigheaded as a Tolkien dwarf, and him coming around could take years. By then it would be too late for Lauren to try and help him. But, like Tracey said, she couldn’t lose hope. Draco, hopefully, would see the light sooner rather than later.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The following weeks passed by far too quickly for Lauren’s liking. It was unnerving how comfortably she had settled into this normal and happy home life, and she was almost sad to see it come to an end as the new school year drew near.

During breakfast one morning, a sudden rapping on the window caught their attention.

Lauren gawped when she noticed Artemis, as well as a tawny owl perched upon the ledge, a letter clutched in each of their beaks as they patiently waited entrance to the house. In all these weeks not once had her pet bothered to visit her and check on her well being. And not once had she received a letter from Snape. Not that she had expected him to write anyway. He was choosing to keep her at a distance.

Tracey shot out of her seat. “Ooh. It must be our school supply list,” she exclaimed as she opened up the window, stepping aside as both raven and owl swooped into the room in a flurry of black and brown.

“Hello, traitor,” Lauren greeted mulishly as Artemis came to land upon her shoulder.

The raven made a series of croaking sounds deep within his belly as a way of greeting. Lauren shook her head andretrieved the letter from his beak. Tracey was in the process of already ripping open her own envelope.

“How is _he_?” Lauren whispered aside to the raven.

Artemis clucked his beak softly, and Lauren took that to mean that the Potion Professor was doing okay.

She opened up her envelope and skimmed over the list before folding it up and shoving it into her jean pocket.

“Is that your raven, Lauren?” Silas Davis inquired as he entered the kitchen and started pouring himself a cup of coffee. Lauren watched as he gave his wife a tender kiss upon her cheek before settling down at the head of kitchen table.

“Yup,” she affirmed, popping the ‘p’.

“He’s a beautiful bird,” Persephone piped up as she dished up fried eggs onto each of their plates. Placing the frying pan back upon the stove, she came to sit beside her husband, clasping his hand affectionately upon the table.

Artemis visibly preened at the compliment, ruffling his feathers in an egotistical show.

“Show off,” Lauren muttered. She raised her toast to her mouth, but the raven snatched it away before she could even react and launched himself off her shoulder, flying out through the open window. Lauren had to refrain from shouting at obscene curses at him asshe didn’t think the Davis’ would appreciate her colourful vocabulary.

“Is that your school list?” Mrs Davis inquired to her daughter.

“Yeah,” Tracey replied.

“We’ll finish up breakfast and head off to Diagon Alley,” Silas stated before taking a sip of his coffee.

After breakfast, the two girls quickly got dressed before heading downstairs, where Silas was waiting for them by the fireplace in the living room.

“Is Mrs Davis not coming?” Lauren inquired, noting her absence.

Silas gave her a crooked smile. “No. Persephone finds the wizarding world a...bit too much.”

Lauren couldn’t help but agree with Persephone on this. If one wasn’t magical and didn’t embrace the lifestyle, it could be all rather daunting. It had taken her a while, but now Lauren was now comfortable being a witch, and was finding that she could not imagine her life any other way. But in the beginning it had been tough, and she could relate to Persephone’s reluctance.

“Now, Lauren, is there anything you need from home before we go?”

“I need to get the key to my vault,” Lauren stated. “I’ll go grab it quickly and meet you in Diagon Alley.”

“Sounds good,” he stated good-naturedly. “Meet Tracey and I at Gringotts.”

Lauren nodded and took a fistful of Floo Powder, flinging it into the fireplace and was soon transported home.

_I really need to learn how to Apparate, _she thought peevishly as she stepped out of her fireplace and into her living room. _Floo’ing doesn’t get any easier with time. _

Lauren didn’t bother to erase the soot and raced upstairs to her bedroom to retrieve her vault key hidden safely in her sock drawer.

Key now safely ensconcedin her pocket, Lauren dashed downstairs and through the kitchen, skidding to a halt when she noticed a note taped to her fridge.

Frowning, she edge closer, her heart starting to beat erratically within her chest when she recognized the spidery handwriting.

_Make sure you are home the day before the school term is to start so that I may collect you and take you to Hogwarts. S._

_Snape was here, _Lauren realized. _He came here when he knew I would not be around._

Her heart gave a painful twist within the confines of her chest as the brutal reality of the extents he was going to to avoid her hit her with sudden painfulness.

Lauren squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath through her nose. She knew that she shouldn’t let his actions and words get to her, but goddammit, it sometimes hurt. Okay, it hurt most of the time.

Opening her eyes, Lauren shook her head, not quite knowing how to deal with this situation between her and Snape. All she knew was that he was hurting her and there was nothing she could about it.

Lauren spun around made her way to the living room, Floo’ing to Diagon Alley. She had to push through congested crowd that had formed as she made her way to Gringotts, where she found both Silas and Tracey waiting for her on the steps leading up to the entrance.

It didn’t take long for them to withdraw gold from their respective vaults and soon they were shopping for school supplies.

Lauren’s mind drifted back to her conversation with Tracey three weeks prior and a sneaky thought crept into the confines of her mind. She glanced slyly up at Silas, wondering why she had thought of this earlier.

“Mr Davis?”

“Yes dear?” he hummed good-naturedly, his bowler hat perched on top of his head. Today it was ringed with a mustard yellow that matched his tie, and clashed spectacularly with his indigo suit.

“Tracey told me that you looked into my records after what happened at school.”

“Hmm? Oh yes, I did.”

“She mentioned that Bethany may have had a child...”

“Ah, yes. I couldn’t find any such evidence to verify those wild speculations, so I have to assume that it was just some silly story doing the rounds back in the day.”

“I see,” Lauren mused, the rumour not being of much interest to her.

Silence stretched out as they meandered through the crowd.

“Do you have access to everyone’s records?” she asked conversationally.

“I can make inquiries and get information on a certain individual if I needed to,” Silas stated. “Why do you ask?”

“I read about someone a while back that I am very curious to learn more about, and I was wondering if you would be able to look into his records. Just for curiosity sake.

“And who would that person be?”

“A man who claimed to be a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Marvolo Gaunt. I wanted to learn more about him and see whether there was any truth to his claims.”

“Many have made such claims, my dear, but I would be happy to look into it for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Lauren exclaimed, not believing her good luck at just how easy that had been.

_B__ut even if you get the information you need, how do you plan to destroy that ring. Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard around, succumbed to the ring’s powers. What makes you think you stand a chance against such malicious power and __contempt__? _that sneaky voice asked in her head.

Lauren didn’t have an answer to that, but at least she had a start. A hope of doing something where there had been no hope before.

Just then a sharp nudge to her ribs caught distracted and she turned to face Tracey.

“What?”

Tracey pointed in the distance and Lauren followed to where she was pointing, almost stumbling to a halt when she spied the unmistakable blonde hair of Draco Malfoy. Walking beside him, haughty and arrogant as ever, was Malfoy Senior dressed in a regally sweeping black robe and his pimp stick clutched firmly in his hand.

And right now they were headed straight towards them!

Just then Draco glanced ahead, his ice blue eyes widening in surprise as he caught sight of them. As if by some cruel twist of fate, Lucius Malfoy happened to glance their way, and Lauren inwardly quaked when she realized that he was now purposely making his way towards them, his demeanour exuding condescending arrogance.

Lucius Malfoy stopped in front of Silas, tall and imposing as he stared down at the other man. Lauren was taken aback by just how imposing Lucius really was when he put his mind to it. It was a scary sight to behold indeed.

“Silas. What a..._lovely _surprise seeing you here,” Lucius sneered, placing heavy emphasis on the word, and making it sound the complete opposite. The way Silas Davis stiffened beside her, Lauren guessed that there was no love lost between these two.

“Lucius,” Silas greeted back stiffly. Lauren glanced back and forth between the two, the tension suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife.

Lucius sneer intensified and then his frosty gaze landed on Lauren, his eyes narrowing and a leer curling his lips. “And I see you have been restored to continue on with your Mudblood existence, Miss Ward. How..._wonderful._”

Lauren glared back at him, wondering how so much spite could emanate from a single man. She tore her gaze away and glanced at Draco, stunned to see that he was looking distinctly uncomfortable and was refusing to meet her gaze. She thought he would have been enjoying the show of animosity and mud slinging going down.

“There is no need to use such foul language, Lucius,” Silas reprimanded, his tone soft yet firm.

Lucius stared at Lauren for a moment longer and then cut his piercing gaze to Mr. Davis. “Indeed,” he drawled condescendingly. “And how is your Muggle wife doing, Silas? Still making you live a Muggle lifestyle that is far beneath you? Or have you stooped so low that you no longer notice how demeaning it is?”

Silas’ pale face turned a blotchy red and Lauren glimpsed his hands clenching into fists as he held himself stiffly and erectly, visibly trying to keep his temper in check.

“Persephone is doing very well, thank you for asking,” he responded through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I wasn’t inquiring to her well being, Silas. I couldn’t care less one way or the other. I fail to see how you can choose to live such a mundane existence with an equally mundane individual. But each to their own, I guess. Good day to you, Silas,” Lucius sneered, and with a small incline of his head, pushed past them, sweeping away in a flourish of platinum blonde and black, followed closely by his son who was still refusing to meet their gazes. If Lauren had to wager a guess, Draco had been as uncomfortable by this encounter as what she had been.

“I’m sorry you two had to witness that. Lucius is an...unpleasant man, to say the least,” Mr. Davis said after a few moments of stunned silence had passed. Lauren could discern that he was valiantly trying to calm himself.

Lauren had much better words to describe that bastard, but she thought it best to keep her descriptives to herself.

She glanced over at Tracey and noted with alarm the hot tears that had pooled within her friend’s eyes. Tear that were noticeable, but refusing to fall. Lauren could only imagine that such hateful things, especially uttered by the father of someone she had once considered a good friend, had cut deep.

Lauren reached for Tracey’s hand, causing the girl to startle.

Tracey hastily wiped the tears from her eyes, her pale cheeks flushed with shame. “I hope Draco doesn’t turn out to be like _him,_” she spat out.

Lauren’s gaze was drawn to the rapidly retreating Malfoys,and she couldn’t help but feel Draco had been doomed from the very start. With a father like that he didn’t stand a chance.

But she recalled his reactions and his distinct discomfiture at his father insulting them, and she couldn’t help but think that maybe there was still a chance yet for him.

“Me, too,” she whispered. “Me, too.”

  
  



	33. Chapter 33

That night Lauren’s dreams were haunted by images of Draco, his ice blue eyes wide with haunted terror. He was seated at the large, polished oak table in the Malfoy manor, staring mutely at the recently Avada Kedavra’d body of the Muggle Studies teacher lying in a crumpled, broken heap upon the surface. Movement caused his eyes to flicker and land on the slithering form of Nagini as she greedily advanced towards the body, eager to devour her dinner, her jaws opening wide in anticipation.

The dreamed morphed and Lauren found herself standing silent witness as Nagini attacked Severus with cold and brutal accuracy, his groans and cries filling the boathouse as he slumped heavily against the wall, his blood smearing against it as he slid to the floor. His dark obsidian eyes, already starting to glaze over, were filled with unshed tears. Lauren tried to cry out, but her voice was frozen solid in her throat, her body cemented to the spot. She was unable to help him.

Severus’ eyes slowly slid in her direction and locked with hers. Icy tendrils of terror filled her veins as she desperately struggled against her invisible bonds that held her in place. She needed to break free. She needed to save him.

Severus lifted a bloodied hand, reaching out towards her, silently pleading.

“_Help me,”_ he rasped, his words gurgled and strangled as he choked on his own blood.

“_I’m trying!” _her mind screamed as she struggled harder against her restraints, panic encompassing her as the brutal truth came crushing down on her. She could not save him.

_No! I have to! I have to save him!_

Lauren glanced up, her anguished cry catching in her throat as she helplessly watched the light - that spark that was purely Severus Snape - diminish, leaving behind an empty void.

Lauren awoke with a ragged gasp, her heart hammering franticallyin her chest as the remnants of the nightmare clung to her subconscious. A clammy sweat coated her body and she felt sick to her stomach.

_It was just a dream, _she repeated over and over in her mind like a mantra, but it was of little consolation. For Lauren knew that it had been no mere dream. This was going to happen. This was really going to happen. Unless she did something.

A soft snore echoed through the night filledbedroom, letting Lauren know that Tracey was still sound asleep.

Lauren yanked the blanket up tight to her chin, willing herself to calm down and go back to sleep, but her eyes refused to shut as the chilling images kept resurfacing.

The minutes ticked by, punctuated by Tracey’sdeep breathing.

Lauren let out a frustrated sigh, knowing there was no way she was going to fall back to sleep after that.The nightmare had brought to focus that if she continued to stand on the side lines and do nothing, then this was actually going to happen.

_But Dumbledore warned me to stay out of events...But how can I stand by and watch Severus die? How can I stand by and watch Draco go through hell and back? How can I stand by and do nothing?_

Lauren knew the answer to that – she couldn’t. But as of yet, she still didn’t have a plan. A plan that was stubbornly refusing to make itself known to her.

Then there was also the added problem that the infamous Headmaster would be keeping a close eye on her from now on, spying on her by any means necessary.

_I’m going to have to play this like a true Slytherin...with a good dose of cunning and a healthy amount of sneakiness. But I first need to formulate a plan..._

Lauren inwardly groaned, for it all boiled down to having a plan.

_Severus is right...I’m just a foolish girl..._

Lauren forcefully flung back the covers, irritation thrumming through her veins.

_How the hell am I going to do this?_

She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

_I wish I had been given a set of instructions when I was brought to this world..._she thought irritably.

Deciding to get a glass of water, more for something to do than anything else, Lauren padded quietly downstairs to the kitchen. She flicked on the light switch, bathing the interior of the room with blinding light.

Like the rest of the house, the kitchen had a homely feel to it, from the buttercup yellow cafe curtains that framed the windows, to the ticking rooster clock hanging on the wall. The fridge was adorned with various photos, postcards and colourful magnets, and the washed dishes had been left to dry on the drying rack. The smell of freshly baked bread seemed to permanently permeate the kitchen, adding to the welcoming feel of this room.

Lauren made her way over to the cabinet and selected a glass before filling it with cool water from the tap. She took a sipfrom her glass as she stared out the window, nary a twinkling star to be glimpsed within the night filled sky. It wasn’t long before her thoughts were consumed once more with her dilemma.

_I _ _have_ _ to find a way_ _ to _ _save_ _ Severus..._

A tightness encompassed her chest.

_I need to save him._

Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes.

_I just wish he wasn’t avoiding me...It hurts so much..._

Feeling foolish for her emotional lapse, Lauren drained her glass and placed it on the counter with a soft _clunk, _intent on heading back to bed to get some sleep_. _

“Oh, sorry Lauren. I didn’t realize you were up,” Silas Davis’ groggy voice sounded from the doorway, causing Lauren to startle and spin around.

Silas was clad in a royal blue robe that had been drawn tight around his middle, matching pyjama pants that were rumpled from sleep peeking out from the bottom. His usually neatly combed hair was dishevelled, almost as though he had been tossing and turning all night. And after his foul encounter with Lucius Malfoy earlier that day, Lauren wagered that this was, indeed, the case. He rubbed a hand absently over his haggard features as he stepped into the room.

“I was just getting a glass of water,” Lauren hastily explained.

Silas gave an absentminded nod, almost as though he had barely registered what she had just said, and made his way over to the fridge. Lauren watched silently from her perch by the sink as he selected a carton of orange juice and proceeded to pour himself a glass.

“You know, warm milk would help you sleep better,” Lauren commented. _Or __better yet, __a stiff drink...__I wonder if I could nick a bottle from his liquor cabinet?..._

“Normally I would have to agree with you, Lauren,” Silas mumbled before taking a sip of the tangy liquid. “But I doubt that it would be of much help right now.”

Lauren eyed him, noting the dark bags under his bloodshot eyes.

“Is Lucius Malfoy always so...contemptuous?” she dared to finally ask.

Silas paused, the glass halfway to his lips. His eyes flickered in her direction, suddenly alert and all signs of drowsiness now absent. Lauren leaned her back against the counter, crossing her arms loosely across her middle as she tried to appear nonchalant under his scrutiny.

Finally Silas sighed and placed his glass down upon the kitchen island, sliding onto the stool as he regarded her.

“Normally I am used to Tracey using such big words. I didn’t expect you to be as well versed as she.”

Lauren felt a slight sting of annoyance.

_Did he just insult my intelligence?!_

As Lauren regarded him, she could not discern any malicious contempt within him, and had to concede that it had beenunintentional.

“There’s more to me than meets the eye,” she finally stated.

Silas must have sensed her ire, for he immediately hastened, “Oh no, my dear. I meant nothing by that. Tracey has always been exceptionally...mature and intelligent for her age. Why, she was reciting definitions and meanings from the dictionary by age five, perfect pronunciations and all. Even I have to admit that her grasp of the English language has been exceptional. I never thought that another of her age would be on par with her...” Silas flushed, catching himself rambling. “My apologies, Lauren,” he amended.

Lauren shrugged and pushed away from the counter, coming to stand on the opposite end of the island. She hopped onto the stool and regarded the man in front of her.

“No need to apologize, Mr. Davis. As you have stated, Tracey is very mature for her age.”

Silas eyed her and finally nodded. He glanced away and drummed his long, bony fingers against the counter top, his brows furrowed and deep in thought. “Is Lucius Malfoy always so contemptuous?” he finally mused aloud. “The answer to that would be yes and no.”

“What do you mean?”

Silas met her inquisitive gaze and gave another weary sigh. “He can be quite cordial and agreeable, even charming to those he deems worthy of his consideration,” he elaborated. “Those that he considers inferior and beneath him, well...not so much. As you clearly witnessed today.”

Lauren remained silent for a moment, processing Silas’ words. Her first introduction with Lucius had been intense yet compelling, him choosing to show her some of his old-world charm. But once he had learned that she was nothing more than a Muggle-born witch, well, his attitude had changed considerably.

“I’m sorry for what he said to you today,” she finally stated.

Silas gave a soft, though humourless snort. “It’s not you that needs to apologize, Lauren. If anything, I am dreadfully sorry that you had to witness that. And what he said to you...” Silas trailed off, his cheeks turning a blotchy red as he recalled what had been said earlier that day.

“I have a feeling I’m going to be subjected to much worse at school,” Lauren replied evenly.

Silas blinked, his anger dissipating. He closed his eyes, looking for all the world fatigued. “It really shouldn’t be, this foolish biasness.”

Lauren eyed him, wagering that he was talking from personal experience.

“How is Tracey doing?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“She was upset, naturally. But I think a lot of it had to do with Draco. She really thought of him as a friend, and to hear his father say such things...”

Silas shook his head sadly. “Draco, I’m afraid, is a lost cause. His father will make sure that he upholds the same values as himself.”

Lauren inwardly disagreed with this assessment, for she remembered clearly how uncomfortable Draco had seemed during the encounter.

Instead she decided to voice an observation.

“Can I ask you something?” Lauren asked after a few moments of silence had passed between them.

“Of course.”

“You were born into a wizarding family, were you not?”

Silas gave a single nod of his head. “I was.”

“Pure blood?”

Silas pursed his lips together. “Unfortunately, yes.” There was no denying the bitterness that had seeped into his voice.

Lauren nodded, more to herself than him. “You really don’t act like a snobbish pure blood,” she finally stated.

A sharp, abrupt laugh erupted from the older man. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“As you should.” Lauren paused, wondering if it was wise to broach the subject with him, but decided to press on anyway. “I take it that your marriage to Persephone did not exactly settle well with your family?”

Silas remained silent for the longest while that Lauren thought he wasn’t going to answer her question. He took another sip of his orange juice, his eyes trained on a spot on the counter. Finally he placed the glass down and met her inquiring gaze.

“What you witnessed with Lucius today was but a fraction of what Persephone and I have had to endure in the past, and sometimes even the present. I tried to shield her from the worst of it, but in the end it was best to cut ties from my family and forge a life of our own together.”

Lauren could only imagine. The mental image of Sirius Black’s mother’s portrait screeching foul profanities at ‘blood traitors’ sprang to mind. The Davis’ must had weathered some spectacular storms, if Silas’ family were anything like the Blacks. Yet here they were, still together and going strong.

“You gave up everything to be with Persephone,” Lauren mused.

“Yes, and it was worth it. I would do it a thousand times over,” Silas stated with sincere conviction.

Lauren eyed the older man, noting nothing but adoration shimmering within his eyes at the mention of his wife. He was truly devoted to her.

_That is love in all its glory. It’s fighting for the one you love, knowing that you stand to lose everything just to be with them. It requires sacrifice and selflessness, but in the end it’s worth it._

As Lauren studied Silas, she discerned no regret at having to give up his family for Persephone. If anything, he seemed like the richest man in her eyes.

Her thoughts drifted to Severus.

_I wish I could__ make him that happy_.

But she knew in her hearts of hearts that it would never be. Snape would never open himself up enough to let her in, for that meant making himself vulnerable and opening himself up to being hurt - something he would never allow.

The grisly imagery from her dream resurfaced.

_It doesn’t matter whether he opens himself up to me or not. What matters, in the end, is saving him. _

Because love is a pure act of selflessness.

_But we can’t carry on like this, _ _with Severus avoiding me_ _. _ _I’m_ _ going to have to resolve this mess _ _one way or the other..._

Silas, almost as though reading her thoughts, stated softly, “Love is a complex and intricate thing. There is no rhyme nor reason to it. It requires sacrifice and compromise on both parts for it to work. But in the end it is worth it. More than you can ever imagine.”

Lauren nodded, more to herself than to him. For no truer words had been spoken. Sacrifice on her part was going to be needed, for saving Severus Snape would be the ultimate reward, whether she gained anything from it or not.

“Thank you, Mr. Davis,” she murmured.

Silas looked perplexed. “Whatever for?”

“For some sound advice that I sorely needed.” Lauren scooted off the stool. “I think I will head home in the morning. I need to get prepared the start of school,” she stated.

Silas blinked, still looking a bit confused, and then nodded. “Of course, Lauren. It was a pleasure having you here. And any time you wish to come and visit, you are more than welcome.”

That strange sensation in her chest, which seemed to happen whenever the Davis’ showed her any form of family affection, washed over her, and Lauren wagered she would never get used to the unfamiliar feeling. The feeling of being wholly accepted as she was. The feelingof belonging.

Lauren nodded and silently made her way back to bed.

  
  


After breakfast the following morning Lauren stood before the fireplace, her bags packed and ready to go. All she needed to do was grab a fistful of Floo powder and soon she would be transported home.

_Home, _she mused mulishly. She had felt more at home here in the Davis’ modest household than she ever had in the Ward manor. Part of her did not want to leave, but she knew she had to.

Tracey crushed her into a bone crunching embrace. “Thanks for coming over,” she murmured.

Lauren awkwardly patted her friend’s back. “I’m still not the hugging type, Davis,” she muttered, trying to pry her friend off her without seeming rude.

Tracey finally pulled away and gave her a knowing grin. For all of Lauren’s grumblings about open displays of affection, the other girl was not fooled. Lauren had a very soft spot when it came to Tracey.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay a bit longer? You can always go with Tracey back to school on the Hogwarts Express,” Persephone added, concern plainly seeping into her honeyed voice and her motherly instincts kicking in big time.

Lauren glanced at the two Davis females, and was sorely tempted to take Persephone up on her offer.

_A few more lovely days like this..._Lauren mentally shook her head. As tempting as the idea was, she had to return as per Snape’s instructions. And she was determined to make things right between them.

“Thank you for the offer, Mrs Davis, but I have to return.”

Persephone did not look appeased, but was choosing to respect Lauren’s choice. She stepped forward and ensconced Lauren in a hug that bordered on smothering.

“At least come and stay with us for Christmas. I cannot bear the thought of you being all alone on Christmas day.”

“Um, sure. Thank you,” Lauren replied, her words muffled. Persephone released her hold on her and Lauren gasped in a lungful of air.

Persephone beamed down at her, clearly pleased with Lauren’saffirmative answer.

“Oh, before you go Lauren, I have something for you,” Silas added as he strolled into the room, dressed in a dapper silver grey suit and matching bowler hat.

“Oh?”

Silas came to stand before her and handed her a rolled up parchment of paper, which Lauren accepted. “I requested those records for you, and an owl delivered itnot too long ago.”

“What records?” Tracey inquired, coming to stand beside Lauren as she peered curiously at the parchment.

“I wanted to learn more about Marvolo Gaunt. Apparently he is supposed to be a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin,” Lauren explained as she unrolled the scroll, her midnight blue eyes skimming over the written text. She stilled, her eyes widening, and she had to repress the squeal of delight that threatened to burst forth from her lips.

For written there was the information she had been seeking.

_Little Hangleton._

Marvolo Gaunt resided in the woods just outside of the village of Little Hangleton!

“Why would you want to read up on him?” Tracey asked, cutting short Lauren’s inner celebratory party.

Lauren rolled up the parchment. “If someone claims to be the direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself, wouldn’t you be curious as well as to whether there was any truth to it or not?”

“I suppose,” Tracey admitted, but Lauren could discern the distinct look that had entered Tracey’s eyes. It was the look that said the girl didn’t entirely believe her.

Lauren hastily turned to Silas before Tracey could fire more questions at her. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re very welcome, Lauren. I hope it will be informative.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Lauren made to step towards the fireplace, but a hand curled around her wrist halted her. She glanced over her shoulder at Tracey, who was giving her the most pathetic doe eyes she had ever seen.

“Please stay. We can go back to Hogwarts together,” Tracey begged.

Lauren stared at pleading eyes, her resolve fast crumbling.

“You know you’re more than welcome to,” Persephone added.

Lauren glanced back and forth between the two females.

_Goddamn. They’re good..._

“Please,” Tracey pressed, drawing out the word.

_Snape is so going to kill me if I’m not there when he comes to collect me..._

“You can always Floo Dumbledore and let him know your change of plans,” Silas offered kindly.

Lauren knew Dumbledore would probably pass the message on to Snape, but even so, she had been hoping to use the opportunity to make things right between them.

But the thought of returning to the cold and empty manor, if only for a few short days, was not appealing.

She stared back at Tracey’s Puss ‘n Boots eyes and felt the last of her resolve crumble.

“Okay,” she relented.

Tracey let out a shrill squeal that almost pierced Lauren’s eardrums and barrelled into Lauren, hugging her fiercely. Then before Lauren could react or change her mind, Tracey grabbed her bag from the floor and all but raced out the room. Lauren could only grin after her hastily retreating friend.

“We’ll give you some privacy to contact your guardian,” Silas stated kindly with a fatherly pat to her shoulder before he and Persephone exited the room.

Lauren, knowing she had best get this over and done with, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and flung it in the fireplace, causing the flames within to turn a brilliant emerald green hue. She then knelt on the carpeted floor and stuck her head in the flames, instinctively closing her eyes and holding her breath.

Steeling herself, she opened her mouth and stated the Headmaster’s name and residence, hoping that she would be able reach him and that he wasn’t off doing God knows what.

“You can open your eyes, Miss Ward. I can assure you that if the fire has not burnt you to a crisp by now, it never will,” came a gravelly and all too familiar grandfatherly voice.

Lauren squinted open her eyes, the imagery before tinged green and warped as the flames flickered before her eyes. Dumbledore was perched behind his large oaken clawed desk in his office at Hogwarts, his hands clasped serenely in front of him as he peered down at her over his half-moon specs.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked cordially.

Lauren wanted to scowl back, their last encounter all too fresh in her mind, but she knew she needed to play nice. For now.

“I just wanted to inform you that I will be remaining with the Davis’, and will be returning to Hogwarts via the Hogwarts Express,” she declared in hr best formal tone.

A brow arched at her statement. “Oh? And does Severus know of your plans?”

“No. We have not spoken since the end of the school year, as you very well know. I was hoping you would inform him of my change of plans.”

Dumbledore nodded to himself. It was hard to tell from her position, but she could have sworn she glimpsed a brief flash of displeasurewithin those twinkling blue eyes. But all too soon it was gone.

“I will let him know. Is there anything else?” he asked.

“No, that’s all.”

“Very well. I shall see you in a few days then, Miss Ward.”

With that the connection was severed and Lauren sat back on her haunches, a frown marring her brows.

Dumbledore had been insistent that she maintain distance from Severus, so why had he seemed disappointed to learn that they were currently not on speaking terms? Shouldn’t he be elated that she was following his orders, even though it wasn’t by choice?

She shook her head, sure that she had imagined it. But when it came to Dumbledore, she always felt as though she was a mere pawn in his chess game.

Rising to her feet, Lauren decided it was no use trying to decipher the old man’s motives – she would be there for eternity and still not achieve a satisfactory answer.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The train station was a bustle of cacophony as excitable students ran about as they tried to board the train,their parents tearfully bidding farewell them over the din of the station.

“Now don’t forget to write as soon as you get settled in,” Persephone fussed as she smoothed down Tracey’s sleek bob. “That goes for you as well, Lauren dear,” she added with a pointed look.

“Yes, Mum,” Tracey stated with a hint of exasperation, clearly having enough of her mother’s smothering.

“We will,” Lauren affirmed, giving her friend a firm nudge to the side with her elbow. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Tracey grumbled something unintelligible under her breath, something both Lauren and Persephone decided to ignore.

Just then in the distance Lauren caught sight of the redheaded flock of Weasleys, who were accompanied by Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Mrs Weasley was looking rather harried as she counted heads to make sure all her brood were accounted for.

Hermione chose that moment to glance over her shoulder and her eyes locked with Lauren. Lauren could literally see the cogs turning inside that brilliant mind of hers as she tried to figure out the mystery that shrouded the Slytherin girl, and Lauren made a mental note to keep as much distance between herself and the Granger girl as possible.

“Best to get on the train now and find a compartment,” Silas suggested.

Tracey didn’t need to be told twice as she ducked away from her mother, who was now trying to dust some imaginary lint off of her shoulder. She all but dragged Lauren onto the train, both girls hefting their weighed down trunks behind them.

“Don’t forget to write!” came Persephone’s cry from behind them.

They soon found an empty compartment and after hoisting their trunks onto the overhead compartment, both girls slumped into their seats exhausted. Lauren could just make out Silas and Persephone waving tearfully to them from the platform.

Soon the train started filling up, though Lauren noted that no one else chose to sit with them.

“Who do you usually sit with?” Lauren inquired as the train started chugging out of the train station.

“Whoever decides to share a compartment with me. I certainly don’t join Pansy and her gang of miscreants,” Tracey stated, pulling a face of disgust.

“I don’t blame you,” Lauren replied. The other Slytherin girl had done little to change Lauren’s first impression of her. “What about Draco?”

“We weren’t really friends the beginning of last year,” Tracey pointed out, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice at the mention of the boy who had fast become a friend and now was...not.

Lauren nodded in understanding. So much had changed in a span of a year.

Soon their journey was under way, the girls passing the time by chatting and reading, and when one o’clock rolled round, they greedily bought an assortment of candy from the food trolley.

Lauren chewed contentedly on her squirming Chocolate Frog as she perused one of the books taken from her inherited library, this book dealing with the more complex intricacies of antivenoms. The particular chapter that had captured her attention dealt with blood infusion as a more reliable cure for some of the more nastier poisons out there.

Lauren paused, frowning as she realized that the compartment was gradually becoming darker and darker, until it was almost difficult to see anything. The train was also slowing down.

“What’s going on?” Tracey asked, slightly alarmed.

The lanterns suddenly flickered to life, illuminating the small room. Lauren glanced out the window, noting the darkened scene beyond. Her frown deepened as ice crystals started to form on the window, and when she exhaled her breath came out in wispy white tendrils. A chill ran up her spine as realization hit her full force.

_Shit! The Dementors! _Lauren thought with rising panic, her heart starting to beat frantically in her chest. _How could I have forgotten about that?!_

Suddenly the train came to a complete halt. Then the lights suddenly went out without warning, plunging them into complete darkness.

“Lauren!” Tracey cried out, her fear palpable.

“It’s okay. Just stay where you are,” Lauren stated, trying to remain calm. She slowly withdrew her wand and cast the _Lumos _spell, the silvery orb of light from the end of her wand offering very little reassurance or comfort.

“What’s going on?” Tracey asked, scooching over to sit beside Lauren. She clutched tightly at her arm, and Lauren could practically feel the other girl shaking with fear beside her.

Lauren swallowed hard, for she knew exactly what was going to happen next, and she just prayed they their compartment was as far away from those ghastly beings as possible.

Instead of answering her friend, she just silently shook her head once, her eyes glued to the door.

_It’s going to be okay. They’re going to go after Harry..._

The minutes ticked by, the room punctuated by their breathing, which sounded deathly loud in the eerie silence.

Suddenly the air became colder, the kind of icy cold that penetrates right through to the marrow of the bone, dispelling all warmth and hope that ever lay penetrated one’s soul...

“Lauren,” Tracey whimpered.

The air within Lauren’s lungs froze when she saw a cloaked figured float into view on the other side of the door, a long clawed hand reaching out to open it.

“What is that?!” Tracey shrieked.

Lauren couldn’t think, an intense shaking overtaking her entire body as icy hopelessness consumed her entire being. Her eyes rolled back into her skull and she was distantly aware of her wand clattering to the floor.

_I...I need to cast a Patronus..._

A frantic scream echoed all around as she desperately tried to hold onto consciousness. But it was no use. Her body slumped to the floor as darkness encompassed her. And still that scream of terror echoed all around her head. It was a scream of one who knew they were about to die. It was chilling to hear such a sound.

A rattling intake of foul breath punctured through to her subconscious. It was a harrowing sound, a signal that death was fast approaching.

She felt long fingered claws curl around her upper arms, and then she was plunged into oblivion.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren groaned, her head splitting and feeling as though it was being cleaved in two. She tried to crack open her eyes, but they felt heavy and refused to open. She was distinctly aware of her roiling stomach and the clammy sweat that coated her entire body. But nothing could diminish the perpetual icy coldness that had seeped right through into her very marrow, anarctic freeze that seemed to chase away all thoughts of hope and happiness, and she distantly wondered if she would ever feel normal again. If she would ever smile again.

_What in the blazing fuck just happened?_

“Is she going to die?” Tracey’s grief stricken voice inquired, sounding distant and far away.

“No, my dear. Professor Lupin came in the nick of time, I dare say,” Madam Pomfrey comforted in a soothing tone.

This didn’t seem to appease Tracey and she burst into wracking sobs.

In the distance she thought she heard a door creak open, followed by soft, almost silent treads.

There was a moment’s pause.

“Cease your incessant crying, Miss Davis,” Snape snapped impatiently, though he was not renowned for having much patience to begin with.

“B...b...but,” Tracey sobbed harder, her stuttered word almost incoherent.

“I think it’s best you leave. Go and join your fellow Slytherins at the feast,” Snape snapped.

“Severus,” Madam Pomfrey scolded.

“Now, Miss Davis,” Snape commanded, his tone low but dangerous. It was a tone that forewarned others not to disobey him, else they would severely regret it.

There was the sound of Tracey scampering from the room, her tearful sobs floating back to them.

“Was that really necessary? She was distraught for her friend!” Madam Pomfrey chided. “Miss Ward here almost had her soul sucked right out of her!”

The image of the grisly Dementor crashed into Lauren’s subconscious, and she inwardly shuddered.

There was a moment’s pause. “Yes, I am well aware of that.” His statement, though almost a whisper, held a hard edge of anger to it. It wasn’t hard for Lauren to discern that he was absolutely livid right now.

“I shudder to think what would have happened if Professor Lupin hadn’t shown up when he did.”

“Indeed,” Snape sneered sardonically.

Lauren felt the bed dipbeside her.

“Wake up, Miss Ward,” Snape snapped. If she expected softly spoken words of comfort from him, she was sorely mistaken.

Lauren struggled to open her eyes, her eyelids feeling like they were made of lead. Finally she managed to squint open her eyes and recoiled at the blinding light, even though, logically, she knew that the Hospital Ward was currently dimly lit.

“Give her a moment, Severus. She’s been through a lot,” Madam Pomfrey cautioned.

“I am well aware of that, Poppy. I wasn’t ordering her to leap out of bed and start tap dance around the room,” Snape snapped with his customary sarcasm.

Lauren finally managed to blink open her eyes. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and then her gaze landed on Severus, who was sitting beside her and was regarding her, his features defined in an unreadable and haughty mask. His eyes, however gave him away. There was abject concern simmering within those dark depths, foretelling just how worried he really was.

Her heart gave a painful lurch within the confines of her chest at the sight of him.

_Oh, how I’ve missed you, _she thought with longing.

Lauren realized her blunder too late and immediately slammed her Occlumency shields into place, silently praying Snape had not glimpsed her illicit thoughts.

Snape eyed her, the moment seeming to stretch out before them. Then he finally spoke up.“When you are ready, sit up and drink this.” His tone held a soft edge to it, a softness that Lauren did not think he was capable of possessing.

The thought of eating or drinking anything sent her stomach roiling. “I think I’m going to be sick if I try,” she mumbled.

“A side affect of your run-in with the...Dementor,” Snape lectured, though when Lauren glanced up at him she witnessed the unmasked bitter hatred he held for those creatures.

Lauren struggled to sit up and gratefully leaned back against the headboard of the iron bed, the railings digging into her back. Madam Pomfrey sprang into action and placed a fluffed up pillow behind her.

“Now drink this. You’ll feel better afterwards,” Snape urged, extending a steaming goblet of something towards her, his pale long fingered hand curled protectively around it.

“What is it?” Lauren asked.

“Poison. I decided to finish what the Dementor could not,” Snape intoned dryly.

“Severus!” Madam Pomfrey scolded.

“A joke, Poppy,” Severus stated with an exasperated sigh, causing Madam Pomfrey to harrumph in annoyance.

The corners of Lauren’s lips quirked at his joke, even though it was not appreciated by Poppy, and she accepted the goblet from him, careful not to spill its contents. Pressing it to her lips, she took a tentative sip, the hot, sweet liquid gliding down her throat and instantly dispelling the cold, hallow, sickly feeling that had taken residence in her soul. She could almost feel a ray of hope entering her soul again. Lauren didn’t hesitate and gulped down the liquid until the goblet was drained.

“What was that?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She was expecting him to rhyme off some concoction or potion, but he instead stated, “Hot chocolate.”

Lauren blinked back at him and it didn’t take long for that sardonic smirk to make its way to his lips, his eyes dancing with inner delightat her surprise.

Madam Pomfrey bustled into Lauren’s line of sight, critically eyeing and assessingher.

“Her colour has returned to normal and she looks marginally healthier than before. Do you feel ill? Dizzy? Nausea?” she asked in rapid-fire succession.

Lauren shook her head. “No. I actually feel a hell of a lot better.”

“Language, Miss Ward,” the matron cautioned, but there was very little heat in her words as she, too, looked infinitely relieved. Then she turned and addressed Snape, “I don’t think there has been any lasting damage, and she seems to be in good spirits now.”

“Yes, I can see that well enough, Poppy,” Snape added sarcastically as he rose to his feet. “You needn’t state the obvious.”

“And you needn’t be such as ass,” the matron muttered under her breath. Snape must have heard, for his smirk broadened, and Lauren had to suppress her own smile at the bickering duo.

The nurse turned back to Lauren and said, “You’re free to go, Miss Ward. Maybe get some food into you. And if you start feeling ill, come back here immediately.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Lauren agreed, though she had no plans on returning to the Hospital Wing any time soon.

“Keep an eye on her,” Madam Pomfrey warned Snape, pointing a finger at him.

Snape glared down his nose at the offending finger and intoned, “It’s not my duty to do so.”

“As a matter of fact, it is. You’re the Head of the Slytherin House.”

“Ah. I forgot about that,” Snape muttered, clasping his hands behind his ramrod straight back.

Poppy glared at him for a moment and then flounced off.

“You really do enjoy riling her up,” Lauren piped up, unable to conceal her grin any longer.

“Petty as it may be, riling Poppy up offers one of the few forms ofentertainmentin my life,” Snape added dryly as he watched the retreating form of the nurse, who had now entered her office and had shut the door firmly behind her.

Then Snape turned his dark, penetrating gaze onto Lauren, and her mouth suddenly went dry at the intensity of his scrutiny.

“Now,” Snape started, his tone low and taking on a dangerous edge to it. “Did I not instruct you to wait for me, and that I would escort you to Hogwarts?”

That underlying anger had returned, and Lauren sensed there was more to this than he was letting on.

Lauren’s brows furrowed into a frown as she suddenly came to a plausible conclusion. “You knew about the Dementors?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Of course I did.”

Lauren huffed. “Then why didn’t you say so? I would have waited for you if I had known.”

“You’re supposed to know what’s going to happen.”

“I forgot,” she snapped back.

Snape’s lips pressed together in a thin line, clearly displeased. “A fine thing to forget.”

Lauren huffed. “I can’t remember every single detail. I have a lot going on right now. And why didn’t Dumbledore mention anything to me when I told him my plans?”

“My sentiments exactly,” Snape muttered, and Lauren knew right there and then that his anger was directed at the Headmaster for foolishly placing her in danger. Again.

A few moments of silence passed between them.

“You know,” Lauren finally continued, “all of this could have been avoided if you hadn’t been so determined to avoid me.”

Snape stood resolutely still as he stared back at her with those fathomless dark eyes.

Finally he replied, his tone harsh and belittling. “All of this could have been avoided if you hadn’t gotten it in your head to foolishly meddle in events that do not concern you.”

Lauren glared back at him and muttered, “Yeah, Dumbledore pretty much stated the same thing.”

Snape’s gaze turned sharp and alert. “Did he now?” he asked, his tone once more brittle.

Lauren sat up straight and laid her empty goblet upon the bedside table. “Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’.

“And have you decided to ignore his words of caution as you have mine?” Snape asked, still not having moved from his position.

“No, I have seen reason and have decided to stay out of it, as you have so kindly put it.” Lauren felt no need to tell him that she was instead going to focus on finding a way to foil his imminent death in the future.

“Why do I find it hard to believe you, Miss Ward?”

“Because you are a naturally suspicious person.”

Snape stared back at her, his dark gaze unblinking.

“But I am telling the truth,” she stated.

Silence descended between them.

“But it’s time to be honest. My ‘meddling’ is not the true reason you’ve been avoiding me, is it?” she pressed, her tone even and belying her current nervousness as she broached the subject that Snape was unwilling to admit to.

Snape did not deign to answer as he haughtily stared down his nose at her.

Lauren lowered her gaze, now staring down at her fidgeting hands, which she instantly stilled. She drew in a deep breath and met his gaze head on.

“I know this situation isn’t ideal, what with us sharing a magical bond and all. But it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean what you think it means.” Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, for she knew that her feelings were very much one sided and would never be reciprocated. Yes, Snape cared for her, but he would never feel the same way about her, so she had no choice but to settle for the next best thing. Lauren drew in another deep breath and added, “All I’m asking for is a friend I can trust. Right now I _need_ a friend that I can trust. And because fate has a twisted sense of humour, you’re it.”

Snape eyed her for the longest while, unmoving as his dark gaze bore into her. Finally he asked, his tone clipped, “And what of your friend Miss Davis?”

“She’s a child.”

“As are you.”

Lauren bristled. “I’m not a child and you know that! Well, yes, I may look like one, but I’m not.”

Snape regarded her, his features an unreadable mask. Finally he tore his gaze away and looked pointedly at the door. “I think you had best head down to the feast before it’s over.”

Lauren closed her eyes, wanting to implore him to reconsider. She didn’t think she could bear the thought of his continued avoidance. But she could not force him to change his mind.

Fighting back the tears of frustration that had sprung unbidden to her eyes, Lauren opened her eyes and nodded once.

“Of course,” she murmured, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Hopping down as gracefully as she could, she smoothed down her robe and then met his gaze. “Good night, Professor Snape.”

She had almost made it to the door when his voice sounded out.

“Miss Ward.”

She halted and, after a moment’s pause, glanced over her shoulder, arching her brow at him.

“I should warn you that news of your...run-in with the Dementor has reached every ear in the school. You will be a source of great gossip, not to mention...unsavoury treatment. Especially from your fellow Slytherins.”

Lauren stared back at him. He was warning her and, in his own way, trying to prepare her for what was to come. The fact that he was even making an effort to do so spoke volumes.

She gave a single nod of her head and exited the Hospital Wing, Snape’s eyes never leaving her until she had left.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren stood outside the doors of Great Hall, the thought of entering almost unbearable.

_Of course they’re going to stare. Of course they’re going to whisper. They’re bloody imbecilic children! They’re going to gossip – it’s in their nature to do so. And it’s not like it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before._

Lauren breathed in deeply through her nose, trying tobring forth that infamous Ward attitude that had served her well through the years. But something had shifted and changed within her since her arrival at Hogwarts three years ago. She was not quite the abrasive, rough-around-the-edges, ballsy woman she had been before. Her life and experiences here had smoothed down and refined those those edges. She was finding that she actually cared.

_You can’t lose your nerve now, Lauren. March in there and show them what you’re made of! _that inner voice commanded.

Lauren lifted her chin and entered the Great Hall, resolutely ignoring the deafening hush that followed in her wake as she made her way to the Slytherin table.

Tracey glanced up, her red-rimmed eyes wideningcomically. Lauren sat down beside her stunned friend,blatantly ignoring the rest her fellow Slytherins who were openly staring at her.

“You’re alive,” Tracey croaked.

“Astute observation as ever, Tracey,” Lauren replied as she dished up some Sheppard Pie onto her plate.

“But...but the Dementor...” Tracey trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears at the memory of what had happened.

“Didn’t succeed,” Lauren assured.

“Hey Ward! Pst,” Pansy hissed, leaning across the table as she peered at Lauren with a cruel smirk plastered on her ugly face. “Is it true that you passed out?”

Lauren turned her head to look at the other girl and stated dryly, “It does tend to happen when a Dementor tries to suck your soul out. You should try it some time...Oh wait, I forgot. You don’t have a soul.”

Pansy scowled darkly back at her, but did not seem to have a come back. The rest of the Slytherins were watching the exchange with interest.

Lauren tore her attention away and caught Draco staring at her. But his features lacked any sort of pleasure that she thought he would derived from learning about her experience. Instead, his features were more pale than usual and there was an emotion simmering just below the surface of those ice blue eyes that Lauren could not name.

He hastily glanced away, a red flush creeping onto his pale cheeks. Lauren stared at him for a moment longer, noting that he hadn’t joined Pansy in her cruel taunting.

_Interesting..._

“You’d better finish eating before the feast is over,” Tracey urged.

Lauren complied and tucked into her meal, her appetite still non existent, but she knew she needed to eat something. Especially after her encounter with the Dementor.

Soon the feast was over and the students headed back to their dormitories to get a good night’s sleep before the start of the new school year the following day.

As Lauren and Tracey walked side by side through the gloomily lit dungeon passageway, Pansy and her gang passed them, roughly pushing against the two girls and causing them to lose their footing. Lauren managed to catch herself in time, but Tracey fell hard to the floor.

“Going to faint again, Ward?You’repathetically fragile if a little Dementor makes you pass out in fright,” Pansy taunted, a cruel sneer stretched upon her lips. “You and Potter should start dating. You’re a perfect match!”

“Shut it, Pansy,” Tracey growled as she picked herself off the floor, a scowl etched on her features.

Pansy’s face hardened. “Don’t tell me what to do, you filthy Mud-blood lover!” she spat.

Lauren had had quite enough, her temper rising to the forefront. It was one thing to attack her. It was another to attack her friend.

She instantly had her wand withdrawn and pointed directly between Pansy’s eyes, causing the girl to go squint-eyed as she stared at the weapon aimed at her. Pansy remained frozen in place, her fear plain to see on her face.

“You’ve seen what I did to three boys with a single spell, Pansy,” Lauren growled in a low and dangerous tone. “Do you wish to see what I have planned for you?”

Pansy swallowed hard.

“Put your wand away, Miss Ward,” Snape’s low voice sounded from behind her. “lest you poke her eye out.”

Every instinct screamed for Lauren to ignore Snape and teach Pansy a lesson.

“Now, Miss Ward,” Snape growled.

Lauren narrowed her eyes and huffed in frustration before stepping back, her wand to clutched to her side.

“And kindly put your wand away. I am in no mood to clean up Miss Parkinson’s remains tonight,” Snape added dryly.

Lauren shot him a dark glare but did what she was told.

Pansy, now out of danger, had regained some of her confidence.

“She attacked me, Professor Snape! You saw it!”

“Yes, I did. Twenty points from Slytherin.”

Pansy smirked, not even caring that points were being taken from her own house. Or maybe she was just too stupid to realize.

“Let this be a warning, Miss Parkinson,” Snape continued. “Should you feel the need to instigate a fight with Miss Ward again, just know that I will not always be around to save you. It was just as well that I showed up when I did, otherwise you would be nothing but brains and gore plastered on the wall.”

Pansy actually paled.

“Now off to bed, all of you! I am in no mood for your childish shenanigans!” Snape barked.

The effect was instantaneous and everyone, Lauren included, hastily made their way back to their rooms without another word spoken, though there was a moment where Pansy shot Lauren a murderous glare before climbing into bed.

As Lauren lay in bed, she found she unable to fall sleep. Her thoughts kept drifting towards Snape, as they always seemed to do, and the fact thathe had actually defended her against Pansy. She was starting to wonder if he was having a change of heart and had actually listened to her plea about remaining friends?Snape was hard to read at the best of times, and she had no way of knowing for sure.

Then there was Draco. He had not joined in with the taunting that had been flung her way, and had actually seemed displeased about it. Her heart gave a painful twist in her chest. She missed her friendship with the blonde prat.

Soft snores echoed throughout the room,signalling that the others had fallen asleep. Lauren flung back the covers and padded to the window, staring out into the murky, dark water of the Black Lake beyond. If she squinted, Lauren could almost discern shadows swimming by, but whether it was mermaid, fish, or squid, she could not tell. Either way, it really didn’t matter.

A black form swooped into the room and Lauren startled when Artemis landed on her shoulder, his wings spread wide and his inky black feathers caressing her cheek as he tucked his wings in neatly to his sides.

“Hello, traitor,” she murmured softly, not wanting to wake the others. She was still miffed that her pet had spent the whole summer with Severus and hadn’t visited her once.

Artemis gave a soft, almost sorrowful sounding caw.

Lauren turned her head slightly and eyed the raven upon her shoulder, his glossy feathers seeming to shimmer in the low glow cast by the lanterns in the room. His beady black eyes stared back at her and he tilted his head slightly to the side. In that moment, he almost seemed to be conveying the message, _He needed me more than you did._

Lauren blinked at the realization.Sensing that she had come to the right conclusion, the raven leaned in and rubbed his beak affectionately against her cheek. Lauren absently stroked his head, turning her attention once more to the murky waters beyond the window.

“I’m glad you were with him. It’s good to know he wasn’t alone,” she finally murmured, her thoughts turning to future events and how Snape was going to have to endure it all by himself with no one to lean on for support.

_H_ _e _ _won’t _ _have to..._

This was the thought that echoed through her head as she crawled back into bed, Artemis flying back to rejoin his Master.

_Not if I have anything to do with it._

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The next morning during breakfast the other Slytherins were all but were ignoring Lauren, and she found she didn’t mind, nor did she even remotely care in the least. She had very little time or patience for them on the best of days. Tracey and Draco excluded.

As she ate breakfast, she had an eerie sense of being watched, and glanced up to find the Golden Trio not so discreetly observing her and whispering amongst themselves. Her eyes locked with Harry’s, his vivid green eyes burnished with curiosity. Her reaction to the Dementor must be a great source of heated discussion amongst the three of them.

_I swear to God, if they try to recruit me into their gang, I’ll save Her Royal Highness to hassle and kill the Golden Boy myself! _Lauren thought, though she highly doubted this was the case. If anything, she knew she was now on their radar. She was going to have to be extra cautious around them and avoid them as much as possible.

Just before breakfast was over, Snape drifted towards their table and started handing out their time tables. Lauren noted with disappointment that he resolutely ignored her as he handed her her own and continued on his way, his dark robes fluttering around his tall frame.

She watched him for a moment and then glanced down at her lessons, groaning when she noted that she had Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors after lunch. Her eyes skimmed over the rest of the lessons and her heart stuttered when she noted that Friday evenings had been marked as extra Advanced Potion lessons! A sense of hope and relief washed over her.

_Snape wants to continue our private lessons! That means he is no longer intent on avoiding me. He did consider my request._

“Hmm, we have History of Magic first,” Tracey muttered as she read through her timetable. “Care of Magical Creatures is after lunch...Hey, what do you think of that textbook assigned to us?” Tracey suddenly asked, breaking Lauren from her inner musings.

Tracey’s book bag, which was resting beside her feet, gave a shudder, causing both girl’s to glance down at it at the same time.

“What did you tie it up with?” Lauren asked, amusement lacing her voice.

“Spellotape,” Tracey replied.

Lauren leaned in close to her friend and whispered conspiratorially. “Just stroke its spine.”

“What?” Disbelief was evident on Tracey’s features as she stared back at Lauren.

“Just stroke its spine and it’ll behave,” Lauren repeated.

“Seriously?”

Lauren nodded, suppressing a delighted giggle at the bemusement written all over Tracey’s face.

Just then the bell rang, indicating the start of their first lesson, which neither girl was too enthusiastic about. History of Magic was neither enthralling, nor attention grabbing on the best of days.

Soon lunch rolled around and then they were heading down to Hagrid’s hut for their first lesson of Care of Magical Creatures. Lauren was partially excited to see an actual Hippogriff up close and personal, but she also dreaded it, knowing what was going to come next with Draco and the Hippogriff christened as Buckbeak.

She surreptitiously eyed Draco, who was walking a ways ahead of her, flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle who had resumed their roles of his goons ever since his friendship with Lauren and Tracey had crumbled to dust. His platinum blonde head was bent as he trudged towards Hagrid’s hut on the outskirts of the looming and foreboding Forbidden Forest, his hands thrust deep in his pant pockets. Crabbe and Goyle were guffawing loudly, and Lauren noted with curiosity that Draco wasn’t paying either of them much attention, even seemingly ignoring them.

_It’s almost as though he’s barely tolerating their presence..._

Lauren didn’t have much time to dwell on this small revelation as they had now reached Hagrid’s hut. Hargrid stood waiting for them outside his door, dressed in his all too familiar moleskin overcoat, and Fang sitting faithfully by his heels.

Lauren glanced over her shoulder and saw that the Gryffindors were bringing up the rear.

“C’mon now. Get a move on!” Hagrid bellowed in his gruff, yet jovial voice. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson commin’ up. Everyone here? Right, follow me!” he exclaimed, not waiting for a response.

They followed in the gigantic shadow of their teacher as he led them around the edge of the gnarled trees of the Forest, all walking in complete silence for about five minutes until they reached a paddock, which was currently devoid of any creatures.

“Everyone gather around the fence here!” he boomed, motioning animatedly with dustbin sized hands for them to gather around. “That’s it – make sure yeh can see! Now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books -”

“How?” Draco’s cold and drawling voice interrupted, his ice blue eyes glinting condescendingly as he glared back at Hagrid, a blonde brow arched questioningly.

“Eh?” Hagrid inquired, no doubt confused by the boy’s question.

“How do we open our books?” Draco repeated, his tone cold as ever as he reached into his book bag and withdrew his textbook, which had been bound tight with rope. Some of the other students followed suit and produced their books, some of which had been taped, or tied with ropesand belts.

“Hasn’...hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books?” Hagrid asked, clearly perplexed.

Everyone shook their heads in union.

“Yeh’ve got ter _stroke _‘em,” Hagrid explained as he took Hermione’s book and, after ripping off the tape that bound it, ran a giant forefinger down the spine of the snapping book. The book shivered and instantly fell compliantly open in his meaty hand.

“Oh, how silly we’ve all been,” Draco sneered. “We should have _stroked _them. Why didn’t we think of doing that!”

“I...I thought they were funny,” Hagrid stated, his features crestfallen and uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“Oh, tremendously funny!” Malfoy snapped.

Lauren eyed him, noting the tension radiating off of the boy. Yes, Draco was naturally an ass, but this was different. It was like he was fuelled by an inner rage, his temper barely being held in check, and he wanted to lash out. Unfortunately, Hagrid seemed to be the perfect person to lash out at.

“Really witty, giving us books that try to rip our hands off!” Draco snapped. Lauren had to agree with Draco on this one. What had Hagrid been thinking, giving kids books like these? Though, when it came to Hagrid, she didn’t think logical reasoning played a major part with him.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry piped up, his green eyes glinting behind his round glasses.

Draco looked as though he was about to make an acidic retort, but Hagrid chose that moment to speak up.

“Righ’ then. So...so yeh’ve got yer books an’...an’...an now yer need the Magical Creatures. Yeah, so I’ll go an’ get ‘em,” Hagrid mumbled, having lost his confidence. “Hang on...” Hagrid strode off into the Forest, the shadows of the looming trees seeming to swallow him up whole.

Draco toed a pebble on the ground, his brows furrowed into a deep scowl.

“What a moron,” Pansy jeered as she peered into the thicket of trees Hagrid had disappeared into. She had sidled up close to Draco and was now glancing in his direction, waiting for him to add a remark of his own, or give her a look of approval. Draco didn’t deign to look at her and instead kicked hard at the pebble, causing it to skim along the clearing. Pansy persisted. “I can’t believe that oaf is our teacher! What was Dumbledore thinking...”

“Shut up!” Harry snapped, having stepped forward, his tall, thin body vibrating with tension.

Lauren started to frown, distinctly recalling that this particular exchange had been between Harry and Draco, not Pansy.

_This is different..._

“Careful, Potter,” Pansy taunted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Gonna faintlike the weakling that you are?”

Draco’s blonde head snapped up at that remark, his eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at Pansy, for there was no doubt that the not so subtle remark had also been directed at Lauren. For a brief moment his eyes flickered towards Lauren and she thought she discerned anger lurking beneath the surface. But it was not directed at her, that Lauren was certain of. He quickly glanced away, his lips pressed into a thin, displeased line.

“Ooooooh!” Lavender Brown squealed as she pointed excitedly behind them.

The entire class, now distracted from the brewing fight between Harry and Pansy, turned to see Hagrid emerging from the forest, leading about a dozen Hippogriffs behind him.

“Wow,” Tracey breathed out.

Lauren couldn’t agree more. The creatures were magnificent, a truly beautiful sight to behold. The Hippogriffs were half horse, half eagle, with sharp beaks the colour of cold steel, and talons that were long and thick, and very deadly looking. Their orange eyes glinted brilliantly as they eyed the students, their large wings tucked neatly to the sides of their gleaming white bodies as they trotted behind Hagrid.

“Get up there!” Hagrid commanded, the creatures obeying as they ran up to the fence. Everyone instinctively backed up in the face of these magnificent, yet deadly looking creatures.

“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily, the part of his features which weren’t hidden by his bushy beard flushed with merriment. “Beau’ful, aren’ they?”

Lauren had to agree with this assessment. Hippogriffs, once you got over the initial shock of coming face to face with one, were a sight to behold. Their coats, which merged seamlessly from feathers to hair, were sleek and soft looking. Ethereal was the word that came to mind as she gazed awestruck at the creatures before her.

_Definitely wouldn’t see this back in my world. CGI could never compete with this!_

Hagrid proceeded to lecture them on the proper protocol on greeting a Hippogriff. Then came the part when he selected Harry to demonstrate. Lauren and the rest of the class held their collective breaths as Buckbeak eyed Harry for the longest while, until he finally bowed, a sure sign that he approved of the boy.

Hagrid made loud exclamations of joy at this and, much to Lauren’s amusement, soon had Harry coerced into riding the Hippogriff. Lauren did not envy Harry on this, as she found any forms of flying unnatural. Oh, she could ride a broom well enough after the many arduous lessons with Madam Hooch, but she was not entirely comfortable with it. Be it broom, aeroplane, or Hippogriff.

The class watched entranced as Harry soared around the paddock on Buckbeak’s back, his messy black hair windswept and his eyes sparkling animatedly at the thrill of flying this impressive creature.

Loud cheers erupted when he landed and, emboldened by his survival, the rest of the class climbed over the fence and into the paddock, and were soon paired off with the rest of the Hippogriffs.

After a long and anxious moment, Lauren and Tracey’s Hippogriff finally bowed to each of them in turn, and soon they were allowed to pet it.

“So beautiful,” Tracey cooed, entranced with the creature before her as she ran her hand along its silken back.

“That he is,” Lauren agreed, skimming her fingers along the soft feathers along its neck.

“This is easy,” Draco’s sardonic drawl sounded out to her left. Lauren glanced over to see Draco looking superciliously arrogant as he ran his hand along Buckbeak’s beak. His eyes were narrowed, and she sensed that anger radiating beneath the surface.

Lauren’s eyes widened as she recognized the defining moment when Buckbeak would retaliate when Draco insulted him.

_I could stop it. I could..._

Lauren knew she didn’t have much time to make a decision.

_But if I stop this moment from happening, Buckbeak will play no part in Sirius’ escape..._

Time seemed to have frozen, hanging like a pendulum in midair.

_But I _ _can’t just stand by_ _ and do nothing..._

Her body was frozen in indecisiveness.

_What do I do?_

“I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it...” Draco continued, his tone bitter. A bitterness that stemmed from jealousy. “I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?”

Lauren broke from her trance and stepped forward, her feet instinctively picking up pace and guiding her towards the other boy.

_What are you doing, Lauren? Dumbledore warned you to stay out of event!._

Lauren paused, her voice of reasoning penetrating her skull.

The moment had come and she had to make a decision. And fast.

“Are you, you great ugly brute?” Draco finished, his words almost drawn out in slow motion.

_Shit! What do I do!_


	34. Chapter 34

Time seemed to hang frozen in place as Lauren stood on the precipice of indecisiveness.

_Draco needs to go through all these things in order for him to change and become the man he will finally become – a man who will eventually stand up for what is right and revolt against his father’s ideologies. If I change things now, none of that will happen._

But that sneaky voice whispered in her ear.

_M_ _aybe if he has a positive influence in his life, good friends who can guide him and _ _lead him down the right road_ _, he might turn out to be a better person _ _sooner rather than later_ _..._

Time was up. Lauren watched in frozen horror as Buckbeak reared up on his hind legs, razor taloned clawspoised and ready to strike.

_No!_

A blur rushed past her before she could spring into action, and Lauren let out a gasp as she watched Tracey barrel into Draco, both of them falling to the ground in a tangled heap. A sharp cry of pain sounded out through the paddock, and then time seemed to snap back into place, rushing by as though someone had pressed the fast forward button.

Hagrid was wrestling the collar back onto the agitated and highly offended Buckbeak while the Slytherin and Gryffindor students congregated around in a semi-circle to watch the scene, some wearing expressions of shock and trepidation.

Lauren snapped out of her stupor and rushed to her friend’s side, who was disentangling herself from Blondie. Tracey rolled off of him onto the ground and Lauren helped her sit up, noting the shallow gashes running parallel against her friend’s pale cheek. She noted with relief that the gashes were shallow, but were deep enough to causea steady flow of blood to trickle from them.

Draco struggled into a sitting position and wasregarding Tracey with a bewildered expression writ all over his sharp, pointed features.

“Are you okay?” Lauren asked, tentatively placing a hand on her back.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just a scratch,” Tracey muttered.

Lauren eyed her friend, dawning horror seeping right into the marrow of her bones as the reality of the situation hit her.

_Did she...Did she just...Oh double fudgety fudge fuck_ _! Tracey _ _has just_ _ altered events! This is not good. Not good at all! _ _Dumbledore’s gonna kill me! _ _No, wait...Snape’s gonna kill me. I’d rather _ _D_ _umbledore do the deed. At least _ _I know_ _ he’ll make _ _my death_ _ quick and painless..._

“Why?” a voice croaked out, snapping Lauren out of her quickly spiralling thoughts.

Both Lauren and Tracey glanced over at Draco, who was still staring at the other girl with that confounded expression.

Lauren was still numb from the shock of what had just transpired and, before she could even comprehend what was happening,Tracey clambered to her feet and strode over to the Goldilocks. Draco had to crane his neck to look up at her and then, in a flash, Tracey raised her hand and smacked him right across the back of hishead, causing his usually well groomed hair to fly into disarray.

“Because that’s what friends do, Draco!” _Smack_! “We stop each other from doing stupid things.” _Smack!_“We’re there for each other and we help each other...because we care! Even when a particular friend is being a complete and utter tosser!” Tracey’s voice was rising with each word, until it was almost shrill to the ears.

Lauren could only stare in wonder at the fierceness that had overcome her friend, alighting her features with a ferociousness she had never witnessed before.

_There’s that inner steel that is Tracey...A force to be reckoned with when she puts her mind to it..._

Draco clutched the back of his mussed up blonde head, but instead of looking furiousby the assault that had just assailed him, he seemed utterly stunned – whether it was by Tracey’s words or because she had dared attack him, Lauren could not tell.

“Are yeh alrigh’?” Hagrid asked, panting slightly as he neared them, his features ruddy and flushed from his exertion of having to deal with Buckbeak. His gigantic form bathed them completely in his shadow, and they craned their necks to stare up at him.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Tracey muttered as she swiped at her cheek, smearing blood across her porcelain skin in the process.

Hagrid eyed her. “Yeh’d better go te the Hospi’al Wing an’ ‘ave Madam Pomfrey ‘ave a look at it.”

“I’ll take her,” Lauren offered, mostly because Tracey looked on the verge of launching another assaultupon Draco.

Lauren practically had to dragthe other girl away from the paddock, Traceyall the while glaringbalefully at Draco.With a final tug on her arm, Tracey finally turned around and let Lauren lead her back to the castle. They trudged up the rolling green lawn, the lush green grass springy beneath their feet and the smell of Fall permeating the afternoon air. The rare afternoon sun basked them both in golden warmth, though it did little to dispel their current mood.Both girls were uncharacteristicallysilent – Lauren on the verge of panic as her mind desperately scrambled to formulate a plan to fix the future event that had surely been altered because of this blunder.

_How the fuck is Sirius going to be rescued now without Buckbeak?_

“What were you thinking?” Lauren finally asked, trying to calm the hysteria that was threatening to bubble over.

“I wasn’t,” Tracey admitted after a contemplative pause, her hands thrust deep into her robe pockets and a scowl furrowing her brows. “I saw you walking towards Draco, saw what was about to happen, and acted purely on instinct.”

Lauren wanted to pull out her hair in frustration and rant at the other girl, but what was done was done and couldn’t be undone. She would have to try and figure out another way to sort out this mess. And the more she thought it about, the more she knewthat she was going to need some serious help with this problem. And there was only one person she trusted enough to help her.

_Severus__...__Bugger!_ _H__e __is__ so going to kill me..._

A few moments of silence passed, and Lauren somehow managed to calm herself down.

“And smacking him across the head, was that part of the plan?”

A smirk sprang unbidden to Tracey’s lips, making her look distinctly Slytherin. “No, but he deserved it.”

Lauren couldn’t help but agree with her. “Well, let’s hope you knocked some sense into him.”

The smile faded from Tracey’s features. “Or I just made him hate us even more.”

This was another plausible outcome that Lauren didn’t want to dwell on, though this might very well be the case.

The mood was sombre as they made their way to the Hospital Wing, the smell of herbs and ointment permeating their senses when they entered the pristine room. Lauren appreciated the fact that the Hospital Wing was not cold and clinical like other medical facilities. She still didn’t enjoy spending any amount of time in here regardless, though it seemed to happen more than she cared to admit. A lot more than she cared to admit.

Madam Pomfrey took one look at Tracey and immediately set to work smearing some Healing Balm onto the gashes after a few customary questions had been asked. She didn’t even bat an eye upon learning that this was the result of being attacked by a Hippogriff. Lauren had to assume that the nurse had dealt with her fair share of odd cases over the years here at Hogwarts, and this was one of the more uninteresting incidents.

“Administer some more of this onto the cuts before you go to bed tonight. They should be completely healed by the morning,” the nurse lectured as she bustled about, thrusting the jar of salve into Tracey’s hands.

“I heard one of my students was attacked,” the deep, silky baritone of Snape’s voice sounded out before he sharply flung back the curtains that had been drawn tight around the bed. He paused as his gaze landed on Tracey. His pale features were set in a dark, thunderous scowl, a clearindication of his current mood.

“This is...different,” he finally stated after a momentarily stunned pause. “Usually it’s Miss Ward who finds trouble and ends up in your care, Poppy. I take it Miss Ward’s lack of self preservation is starting to rub off on Miss Davis.” Snape paused and added with biting sarcasm, “And it’s only the first day of school.”

Tracey flushed under the scrutinizing gaze of the Potion Master. “It wasn’t intentional,” she muttered.

“It never is,” Snape stated peevishly. “Now, seeing as you’re not on your death bed, Miss Davis – which is a pity in itself – I suggest you two head off to your next lesson. This has been a complete waste of my time!”

“You make it sound as though you were hoping for a more gruesome scene,” Poppy chided.

“I was,” Snape snapped before turning sharply on his heel and marching out of the Hospital Wing, his billowing black robes snapping sharply at his heels.

“My, he’s in more of a bad mood than usual,” Poppy commented before realizing that she was speaking out of terms in front of two students. “Well, you heard him. Off to classyou two,” she commanded in a no-nonsense tone as she all but ushered them out of the room.

As they walked in silence to their next lesson, Lauren couldn’t help but ponder Snape’s current mood, and came to the conclusion that it was a mixture of learning that Sirius (whom he still believed had betrayed Lily) had escaped Azkaban, and having Lupin, one of the Marauders, working here in Hogwarts. These two factors could not be an easy pill for Snape to swallow, and Lauren found that she could not fault him for his current foul mood. Hell, if she were in his shoes she’d be spitting mad.

_Yet he still makes the Wolfsbane for Lupin every month and doesn’t try to poison it. _ _If I were in his position, I would be adding a healthy amount of laxative to the potion...But the fact that he doesn’t tamper with it says a lot. Snape may detest Lupin, but he is a better man for not acting out on his loathing for _ _him_ _._

Lauren’s thoughts drifted to her current dilemma and she knew that she needed to go to Snape tonight and tell him what happened. Learning of her screw-up would put him in the foulest mood ever, even though it wasn’t directly her fault this time, and he would blame her regardless. Lauren didn’t know whether she had the strength or the courage to go through with it. But she knew it needed to be done.

_Bloody hell. It’s only been the first day of school and I’m already in trouble._

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren waited until the deep breaths that indicated thather dorm mates were soundly asleep filled the room before she flung back thecovers of her bed and slipped on her slippers and bathrobe. She padded to the door and, after a quick cursory glance over her shoulder to ensure that she hadn’t woken anyone up, she stepped silently out of the room andclosed the door quietly behind her.

She leaned momentarily against the smooth wood of the door, trying to dig deep for that inner courage that she would need to face Snape’s wrath. As she closed her eyes, she imagined all the creative ways Severus was going to kill her.

Lauren drew in a deep breath and pushed away from the door, making her way to the Slytherin Common Room. She stopped on the threshold and let her gaze linger for a moment. The murky water that served as a backdrop against the thick paned windows danced with indistinguishable shadows beyond, anda burning fire crackled invitingly in the ornate hearth, casting out the damp cold that seemed to permeate the dungeons all year round. The flickering lanterns had been turned down, casting a dim glow to the interior, which was tastefully decorated with green and silver decor. This was her House and Lauren held a certain sense of pride for it.

Lauren stilled when she noted a blonde head peeking out from over the top of one of the forest green leather couches positioned by the fireplace.

_What’s Draco doing up this late? __s_he thought, glancing down at her wristwatch and noting it was well after midnight.

Draco, almost as though he had sensedher presence, shifted in his seat, his gaze locking with hers. His eyes widened, foretelling that he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

A sense of abject sadness overcame Lauren at the loss of her friendship with the blonde prat. She truly did miss him. But she could not change his mind and had to hope that he would eventually come around.

Lauren, knowing that Draco would not speak to her, squared her shoulder and strode towards the doors without a single word uttered.

“Where are you going?”

Lauren paused in surprise, her hand curled around the handle of the door, and glanced over her shoulder at Draco, who was studying her with a guarded expression. He seemed highly uncomfortable at having addressed her and quickly glanced away. Lauren couldn’t help but sense that it had taken great effort on his part to speak to her, but the fact that he had made an effort to do so sent a jolt of hoping coursing through her.

“I couldn’t sleep and decided to raid the kitchen,” she explained. With Draco in the room, she would be unable to use the secret passageway to make her way to Severus’ office and would have to use the long way to get there.

Draco nodded his head once, accepting her excuse, but said nothing else, his eyes downcast as he stared at his hands resting in his lap. Lauren waited for a moment, but when it became clear that he was not going to say anything more, she turned around and opened the door.

“How is she?”

Lauren stuttered to a halt and slowly turned around once more to face the boy, surprised that he had even asked. She liked to think that she knew Draco well enough, and the fact thathe was inquiring about Tracey’s well-being showed that he cared enough to to speak to her, a detested Mudblood.

“She’s doing good,” Lauren replied after a pause. “Madam Pomfrey said she will be fully healed by the morning.”

Draco nodded his head once, still refusing to meet her gaze.

_His biasness is still too deep rooted._

Lauren was about to step through the doorway, but decided to speak up instead. “Though I think she would appreciate it if her friend actually asked her himself.”

Draco’s head snapped up. In that moment Lauren could discern the inner conflict warring within him, intermingled with guilt and a true sense of discontent and unhappiness. He missed their friendship, Lauren could see it in his ice blue eyes, but at the same time he could not defy his father. He was in a difficult position, and her heart went out to him.

“She misses you,” Lauren added, unable to stop herself. “We both do.” With that parting remark, she stepped through the doorway and into the dungeon corridor, closing the door behind her.

Lauren rubbed her hand tiredly down her face, hoping that somehow, between her and Tracey, they could bring Draco back. Not for the first time she wondered how her life had gotten so complicated. Before, she had just herself to worry about. But now, now she had come to care deeply for others.

_To care is to open oneself up to hurt. No wonder Snape has closed himself off from everyone, refusing to let anyone in. _

She made her way as quietly as possible to the Potion classroom, shivering against the chill that had permeated the stone walls surrounding her, the shadows clinging like icy tendrils to the walls. The dim glow from the lanterns offered very little solace or warmth, and she clutched her robe tightly against her body.

Finally she reached the classroom, the heavy wooden door closed and barring her entrance. She tried the door handle and was surprised when it opened.She cautiously stepped into the darkened room and, after a moment’s pause, made her way to the door on the other end of the room that led to Snape’s study. She stilled, her hand hovering over the door handle.

_Maybe I shouldn’t tell him..._

Suddenly the door was flung open, robbing her of her escape, and she was now face to face with the looming Potion Master who was currently staring down his nose at her, his obsidian eyes glinting.As usual, he was swathed in his usual black billowing robes though, through the light filtering through from his study, Lauren glimpsed the silver raven buttons peeking out through those layers of black.

_He still wears them..._

“I thought I detected a malevolent presence lurking outside my door,” he drawled, his deep, rich voice slithering across her skin. Lauren resisted the urge to shiver as her body reacted involuntarily to that voice; a voice that could caress along her skin and conjure illicit thoughts inside her head.

“What?” Lauren croaked, realizing she was probably doing a poor job of hiding her reaction to him. She shook her head, trying to regain her senses. Sometimes it was hard to concentrate around him. “How did you know I was here?”

“My wards detected you, Miss Ward,” Snape sneered, adding an exaggerated eye roll for good measure at her obvious mental slowness.

“Ah,” Lauren replied, feeling like the idiot he was no doubt insinuating that she was. “Wait, did you just call me malevolent? You think I’m evil?”

“I’m surprised you know what that word means,” he stated, causing Lauren to glare at him at the insult. He paused, tapping his index finger thoughtfully against his chin. “Though maybe malevolent is too extreme of a word. ‘Great annoyance’ would be more appropriate.”

Lauren’s scowldeepened.

“Now is there a reason you have decided to interrupt my solitude?” he asked before she could fire back a retort of her own.

“Actually, yes,” Lauren stated, still glaring daggers at him, wondering for the first time how she had the misfortune of falling for such a snarky git.

Snape must have sensed that something was amiss, for he eyed her for a moment and then leaned forward and glanced quickly around the classroom, ensuring that she was alone, before his long fingered hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. He yanked her inside his office with such force that she stumbled, barely catching herself from falling in time.

“Rude,” Lauren muttered as she straightened up, rubbed her aching wrist.

“Have you known me to be otherwise?” he shot back as he closed the door firmly behind them.He then turned and strode past her, making his way to his desk and settling languidly in the richly ornate chair.

“No, but you could at least try,” Lauren muttered before settling into one of the two chairs stationed on the opposite side of his desk.

“I could,” he mused, “but I really don’t feel like it.”

It was Lauren’s turn to roll her eyes. Snape was Snape and he would never change.

“Now, usually when you sneak off at night to pester me, it does not bode well. Am I wrong in assuming that this time is no different?”

Lauren swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat as the atmosphere suddenly shifted to more serious territory. The moment of her looming death had finally arrived.

“I...uh...”

Snape's glinting black eyes narrowed. “What did you do now?” he inquired with a hint of exasperation.

Lauren felt affronted that he had automatically assumed that she was at fault. “I didn’t do anything!”

A brow arched at this exclamation, clearly showing his disbelief.

“Not this time,” she added.

“As hard as I find that to believe, I will humour you. So what haven’t you done? Or is that list too narrow, orcompletely non-existent?”

Lauren was tempted to pull a Tracey and reach across the desk and smack him across the head. But her Slytherin sense of self preservation kicked in, warning her that doing so would be suicidal. instead she took a deep, calming breath through her nose and exhaled. She knew she needed to tell him what happened. If anyone could help her with this mess, it was him.

“It’s something that...Tracey did.”

Snape’s brows furrowed. “And what did Miss Davis do?” She now had Snape’s full and undivided attention.

Lauren chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “She may have...slightly...altered..._afutureevent_.” The last bit came out in rush.

Snape stilled, his eyes hardening. He stared at her for the longest while, the tension in the room suddenly racketed up to an all time high. “Changed a future event how?” he finally asked, each word carefully enunciated and his voice almost a whisper, holding dangerous edge to it.

Lauren ran her hand agitatedly through her hair. “You remember what happened this afternoon? With the Hippogriff?”

“How could I forget?” he fired back sardonically as he clasped his hands in front on him. He reminded Lauren of a black panther, poised and ready to pounce on its prey.

“Well, the, uh, the Hippogriff was supposed to attack...Draco. Not Tracey.” Lauren cringed, waiting for him to explode.

The frown became more pronounced as Snape processed her words. “The Hippogriff was supposed to attack Draco?” he finally clarified.

Lauren gave a single nod of her head, holding her breath.

Snape was silent for a moment longer. “And now because he wasn’t attacked this changes a future events?”

“Yes.”

“Detrimentally?” he asked after a prolonged pause.

Lauren paused. Did it really change anything at all, now that the Hippogriff wasn’t going to be put to death? In fact, did Buckbeak really need to go through the execution? She knew thatHarry and Hermione needed to save Buckbeak in order to bring him to Sirius and ensure his escape. But could Buckbeak still be instrumental in said escape without having to go through his near execution?

“I...I’m not sure,” she admitted honestly. “All Iknow is that Buckbeak does plays a major rolecome the end of the year. He was supposed to attack Draco, causing Daddy Dearest tothrow a hissy fit and demand that the Hippogriff be executed, and then -.”

Snape’s hand shot up, indicating for Lauren to stop talking, and Lauren immediately snapped her mouth shut. He lowered his hand, his features taut as he stared long and hard at a spot on the surface of his desk. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples with his middle and index fingers, and Lauren thought she heard him mutter, ‘Why me?’.

Then without warning, Snape abruptly stood up and marched over to the cabinet on the other side of the room, roughly yanking the door open and snatching up a bottle of Firewhiskey and a crystal tumbler. The dark scowl was still pronounced upon his features when he returned and settled back in his chair, placing both bottle and glass on the desk.

“I noticed you only have one glass,” Lauren pointed out, feeling a bit brave by the fact that he hadn’t outright killed her. Yet.

“Astute observation as always, Miss Ward,” he intoned as he unscrewed the lid of the bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Not going to share?”

“No,” he said simply as he poured a generous amount of whiskey into the tumbler.

Lauren huffed. “I’m soon going to be fourteen going on thirty four. And, quite frankly, I think I need a drink more than you.”

“I’m the one that has to figure out a way to clean up your mess. Not to mention that I’ve had to put up with you and your shenanigans for two long insufferable years. If anything, I think I deserve this drink far more than you,” he snapped, raising the glass to his lips and taking a long sip.

“Arse,” Lauren muttered under her breath as she petulantly crossed her arms over her chest.

Snape lowered the tumbler and placed it on his desk, his hand still curled protectively around the glass.He stared down at the glass, clearly deep in thought, andthe seconds ticked painfully by, the only sound filtering the room was the fire crackling in the hearth as the flames licked hungrily at the wood.

Finally Snape spoke up, his voice strained. “Does the Hippogriff need to be put to death?”

Lauren thought about his question. “Yes and no,” she finally replied.

“Informative as ever, Miss Ward.”

“Well, it’s not like I can exactly give you too much information without revealing everything! You’ve been adamant that I not reveal knowledge of future events to you.”

“And yet here you are doing just that.”

“Because I need your help.”

Snape eyed her, cunning brewing in those obsidian eyes. Lauren had to quickly glance away, feeling as though she would stumble and fall into those dark voids and become eternally lost. That tingling warmth was enveloping her once more and she had to quickly taper down her reaction to him. Right now they had bigger things to worry about.

Snape tapped the side of his glass with his index finger, the seconds dragging by as he contemplated his next move. “And the role that the bloody beast needs to fulfill at the end of the year,” he finally said, “can it be accomplished otherwise?”

Lauren stared at Snape.“I...I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.” Lauren’s brows furrowed as she thought about the dilemma before her. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the execution really wasn’t necessary. There could be another alternative, another way to ensure that Buckbeak was delivered to Sirius, ensuring his escape.

She let out a long drawn out sigh. “All I know is that in the story he needs to escape. And in order for him to escape he needs to be sent for execution. And that’s not going to happen now because he attacked Tracey instead of Draco -.”

“Miss Ward,” Snape interrupted, his voice sounding like a sharp crack of a whip.

“What?”

“Kindly shut up!” he snapped.

Lauren slumped back in her chair, wanting to scream in frustration. She rubbed her hand down her face, feeling suddenly fatigued to the bone, not to mention unbelievably frustrated. Her eyes landed on the bottle of Firewhiskey that was tauntingly tempting her, and she instinctively reached across the desk for it.

_Smack!_

Lauren snatched her stinging hand back, cradling it protectively against her chest. Her head snapped up to find Snape eyeing her, a shadow of a smirk playing upon his lips.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“It was supposed to.”

Lauren glared daggers at him, wondering (not for the first time) if she would ever have the privilege of getting drunk again? With Snape and Dumbledore around, the answer to that question would be a resounding no.

“I ask again,” Snape continued as though nothing had happened, “the role the Hippogriff needs to fulfill at the end of the year, can it be accomplished otherwise?”

Lauren’s scowl morphed into contemplative thoughtfulness. She needed to stay focused, and this was exactly what Snape was forcing her to do. To stay centred and think of an alternative plan.

_I could befriend Buckbeak, get him to trust me. And when the time comes, ensure that he is delivered to Harry and Hermione _ _and they can go and rescue Sirius_ _..._ _Only thing is, _ _this could all so easily go bottoms up. _

She stilled as another thought occurred to her. _Snape is going to kill me when he finds out that I __had a hand in rescuing__ Sirius._

Lauren didn’t want to dwell upon the fact that she was possibly going to betray Severus’ trust.

_He’ll never forgive me..._

Her heart clenched painfully in her chest at this thought.

_But Sirius needs to _ _be saved_ _._

This was not up for debate. Sirius needed to be saved at all cost – the price being that she would have to betray Severus.

“Possibly,” she finally mused aloud. She lifted her gaze to Snape, who was watching her with shrewdness. She quickly glanced away, afraid that he would catch a glimpse of her impending betrayal. “It can probably be done. I just need to work on a plan.”

“Well, you have a whole year in which to do so,” he stated sardonically and without much sympathy. He lifted the tumbler to his lips and drained the liquid within his glass.

Lauren eyed him, noting the taut lines and the tension radiating from him. Severus was exuding pent up rage; a rage that was threatening to lash out at any given moment, and Lauren didn’t have to dig deep to guess what was causing him such grief. Or who. Two who’s to be precise.

Severus still believed Sirius to be guilty of betraying Lily and ultimately causing her death. The fact that her ‘betrayer’ had escaped and was now loose was probably eating away at the Potion Master, especially knowing there was nothing he could do about it. And then there was Lupin. One of the Marauders - and his tormentor from his his youth - now working at Hogwartscould not be easy for Snape. It was a wonder he hadn’t snapped yet.

“Are you...okay?” she asked softly, knowing full well how stupid the question sounded.

Snape placed is tumbler back down on the desk with a soft _clunk _and lifted his gaze, his dark eyes locking with hers. Lauren’s breath caught in her throat as she was drawn into those dark fathomless depths; depths that reflected a deep pool of guarded emotions. Then she caught a brief flash of something almost akin to raw pain, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

Lauren instinctively reached out and curled her hand over his wrist. The magic flared at the close contact and Lauren gasped at the intensity of it. Both Snape and Lauren immediately slammed their Occlumens shields in place, tampering down the reactions of their magic to a more manageable level which both could ignore.

_Snape’s right. Our magical bond and the urge to complete it is getting stronger as time progresses..._

As she stared back at him, she tried to silently convey to him that she was here for him.

Snape blinked and suddenly the spell was broken. He yanked his arm roughly away, a condescending sneer curling his lips. “I think it’s way past your bed time, Miss Ward. Kindly see yourself out.”

Lauren mentally sighed at the abrupt dismissal, though deep down she hadn’t expected anything less from him. Snape was not one to easily trust nor did it come naturally to him to accept comforting words or touches. Friend or not, he was still refusing to let her in, especially now that he had come to realize that he cared for her more than he should.

As Lauren rose to her feet and headed to the door, she paused and glanced back at him. He was watching her, and she contemplated whether to say more, but decided against it. Their friendship was still tumultuous at best and it was best not to push him for more. Snape would let her in when he was ready.

“Good night, Professor Snape,” she murmured before leaving the room, a wall of silence her only reply as she closed the door behind her.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Lauren stormed into the Potion classroom that Friday evening, making sure to slam the door loudly behind her as she marched towards his desk.

Snape’s head was bent, his raven black hair hiding his features as he viciously graded papers, the red ink looking distinctively like slashes of blood on the crisp white paper. He ignored her stormy entrance and continued writing out a scathing diatribe before he straightened up and placed his quill calmly back in the red ink pot.

He clasped his slender hands in front of him as he evenly met her stormy glare. Outwardly he appeared cool and collected, but Lauren could discern the pent up tension radiating from him. News of the Boggart-Snape had probably reached his ears by now and, knowing Snape had more than likely perceived this as a personal attack by Lupin.

But right now she didn’t care about that.

“Was that really necessary?! You could have killed the damned frog!”

“Toad,” Snape corrected.

“Whatever,” Lauren snapped. “You could have poisoned it. What were you thinking?”

“Miss Ward, need I remind you that I am quite an accomplished Potion Master. Do you think I could not cure a bit of poisoning?”

“Knowing how vindictive and cruel you can be, somehow I don’t think you would have,” she shot back, her temper rising to a very foul level. She had been seething over this since yesterday.

Snape had been in a righteously horrid mood when they had entered the Potion classroom for their lesson that Thursday afternoon, and had proceeded to pick on Neville as he instructed the class to brew a Shrinking Potion. It was a well known fact that Neville Longbottom was terrified of Snape and often became unravelled in his presence and, as such, usually made a blunder of all his potions. This time being no exception. Snape had lost his patience with the boy and had threatened to use the end result of his potion on his pet toad. If it was successful, the toad would shrink into a tadpole. If not, Trevor would be horribly poisoned and probably die an unpleasant death.

Thankfully Hermione had managed to help him enough to ensure that his brew was a moderate success, but the fact that Snape had been so unjustly and vindictively cruel to the boy really irked Lauren.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Miss Ward. You are overstepping your boundaries.”

“No, you’re overstepping your boundaries by maliciously picking on the boy!” she snapped back, refusing to back down. “Why do you pick on him so much? Why do you hate him?”

The tension in the room racketed up as Snape slowly rose to his feet, looming over her ominously as he stared down his nose at her. Lauren craned her neck to look up at him and folded her arms crossly over her chest, glaring at him.

“I don’t hate the boy.”

“You could have fooled me.”

Snape finally snapped. “His blunders are a hazard to my class. If he would only listen and concentrate maybe he could avoid trying to blow up the place and the students along with it.He has untapped potential, yet he wastes it, letting his fear conquer him.”

“He’s just a boy.”

“A boy who will soon be thrown into the midst of a looming war. If he cannot keep his wits and senses about him in the face of fear, then he is as good as dead. Pity really, considering he is a descendant from two exceptional Aurors.”

“And you’re trying to do what? Make him face his fears? Because if that’s the case, you really need to work on a different strategy, ‘cause it’s not working.”

“Hardly,” Snape sneered. “I’m starting to think Longbottom is a lost cause.”

Lauren unfolded her arms and planted her palms on the surface of his desk as she glared up at him. “Neville is going to grow into one of the bravest men this war has ever seen.”

Snape’s black eyes glinted at this revelation, though the rest of his features remained an unreadable mask.

“That is...surprising.”

Lauren shook her head and straightened up. “Lay off him,” she warned.

“And what good would that do?”

“Don’t tell me that secretly you’re trying to prepare him, because I don’t believe it for a second.”

Snape folded his arms in front of him, his billowing robes encompassing him in layers of shrouded shadows. “Yet you yourself have stated that he will grow into one of the bravest men this war has seen. Tell me, Miss Ward, would that be possible if he was constantly coddled and catered to? Do you think that would be remotely possible if he was shielded from the unpleasantries of life and not forced to face his fears on a daily basis.”

Lauren’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between making a person face their fears and outright bullying them.”

His obsidian eyes glinted dangerously. “I have a mind to throw you out, you insufferable girl.”

“Then do it,” Lauren challenged.

“I would,” Snape growled, “but today’s lesson is imperative, considering the recent events that have transpired.”

Lauren blinked at his sudden change of tactic, her anger at him momentarily forgotten. “What is today’s lesson?”

Snape eyed her for a good few seconds, and she could literally see that he was greatly considering just throwing her out of his class for pure spite.

Instead, though, he turned on his heel and marched to the door on the opposite end of the room that led to his study, calling over his shoulder, “Follow me.”

Lauren glowered after him, realizing that he had successfully deflected her from the topic of Neville, but she decided to let it slide for now as she followed him into his private chambers and down to his laboratory.

Lauren stilled on the threshold, noting that the room had been temporarily cleared for today’s lesson, with the exception of a few bookshelves stationed against the walls, each crammed with leather bound and well read books.Her heart gave a frantic lurch at the thought of enduring a gruelling duelling lesson with him, especially in his current mood. She could already envision the welts, bruises, cuts and scrapes she was about to endure, and she was not looking forward to it.

Snape strode into the middle of the room and turned around to face her, his hands clasped behind his back as he eyed her.

“The Dementor attack has brought to light that you are more than likely vulnerable to another attack, considering they have taken such a liking to you – why, I have no idea, seeing as how annoying you are.” Lauren glared back at him, but Snape ignored her and continued. “And, as such, you should be adequately prepared, considering that there is a whole swarm of them stationed around the castle.”

Lauren’s annoyance gave way to surprise as the implications of his words hit her. “Wait. You’re going to teach me how to cast a Patronus?”

“At least you’re quick on the uptake,” he muttered. “Yes, I intend to teach you how to cast a Patronus, Miss Ward.”

“Why?”

Snape rolled his eyes dramatically. “Did I not clearly state why? The Dementors are drawn to you and you need to prepared to defend yourself. And, as such, the misfortune has landed upon my shoulders to teach you.”

“Yes, I got that,” Lauren snapped. “I just figured Lupin would be the one to teach me.”

Snape’s whole demeanour shifted. “Do not mention that idiot’s name in my presence again!”

Lauren blinked at the heated venom lacing his words. Yesterdays episode with the Boggart must have really irked the Potion Master, dredging up old memories of Marauders bullying him in his youth.

“What he did was uncalled for,” Lauren finally stated, her words spoken softly.

“Not in Longbottom’s eyes. I think he has exacted his revenge on me quite satisfactorily.

Lauren didn’t know what to say in the face of that bitter remark. “I’m sorry,” she finally mumbled.

Snape eyed her and then started to pace the room, choosing to ignore her words of platitude and continue on with the lesson. “What can you tell me about a Patronus?”

“A happy thought or memory is needed to cast them,” Lauren supplied readily, excitement starting to bubble up inside of her. She was actually going to learn to cast a Patronus Charm, and the curious side of her couldn’t wait to see which form her Patronus would take.

“Correct. A Patronus feeds off the positive force of it’s caster to defend against an attack from a Dementor.”

Lauren glanced around the room, noting that there was not a single wardrobe around in which a Boggart would be lurking for them to practise this lesson on.

“Where’s the Boggart?” she asked.

Snape stilled and cast a disbelieving glance her way. “Why would we need a Boggart?”

“You know,” Lauren stated less confidently. “So that it can take the form of a Dementor and I can practise casting my Patronus on it.”

A brow arched at her statement and a few seconds ticked by. Finally Snape stated condescendingly, “Do you truly believe that your Boggart would take the form of a Dementor, considering your...past?”

Lauren stilled as she realized how ludicrous that line of thinking had been, and she had to wonder, considering her past horrors, which form her Boggart would have really taken on. Probably her abusive father, or Deacon swinging the baseball bat down on her head over and over again. Lauren shuddered at the thought and when she glanced up at Snape, she realized that this had been the exact reason why he had chosen not to use a Boggart in the first place.

“No, probably not,” she admitted.

“Neither a Dementor, nor a Boggart in the form of a Dementor, is needed to learn how to cast an effective Patronus,” Snape stated. “Though learning to cast one in the face are true fear would be more beneficial as a teaching method, but not entirely necessary.”

A thought occurred to Lauren. “Why was that Dementor drawn to me like that?”

“Because, unlike the other sheltered miscreants residing in this school, Miss Ward, you have experienced some atrocious horrors in your past. And actually dying a violent death is as horrific as it gets. The Dementor sensed this in you and was drawn to it.”

Lauren shuddered at the memory, a chill slithering down her spine as she recalled the rattling foul intake of breath as skeletal hands curled around her shoulders as the Dementor prepared to suck her soul right out of her.

Snape’s ever observant gaze noted the shudder, but chose not to comment on it. “Now, do you know the incantation?”

“Expecto Patronum,” Lauren replied.

Snape gave a single nod of his head, his raven black hair that framed his pale features barely shifting with the movement. “Good. Now take out your wand, concentrate on a happy memory, and try and cast your Patronus.”

Lauren withdrew her wand from the sheath attached to her arm and gripped it firmly in her hand. A sense of excitement overcame her and it took a lot of willpower to close her eyes and conjure up a happy memory.

Problem was, she didn’t have too many happy memories from her past to draw on. She tried to think of Jennifer and how her life had changed for the better when she moved in with her. But that memory was tinged with the almost crippling grief of having lost her foster mother all too soon to the brain aneurysm

She discarded that thought and her mind drifted to Tracey and her family, and how they had accepted her into their fold. She was now considered one of them and the memory, though filled with heartwarming goodness, didn’t exactly fill Lauren with pure, undulated happiness. It was almost as though she were expecting the rug to be pulled out from under her feet and to lose them as well. People, she had learned a long time ago, would come and go. Some longer than others. But ultimately, they would leave.

She then thought about the friendship she had struck up with Tracey and Draco, and how she had come to care greatly for the two annoyances in her life, but that, too, was overshadowed by the heartbreaking fact that Draco was now no longer a part of their group.

_God, I really miss that little bugger._

“You’re taking an awfully long time to think of something appropriate,” Snape commented.

Lauren blinked open her eyes. “It’s not like I have an abundance of happy memories to choose from,” she bit back.

Snape stared back at her, standing utterly still with his arms folded in front of him as he regarded her.

Suddenly the memory of their shopping expedition sprang to mind, and how she had referred to him as her Daddy to the cashier. His reaction had been quite comical, and a huge grin stretched on Lauren’s face. She held on fiercely to that memory as she raised her wand and shouted, “_Expecto Patronum!”_

A silvery wisp of smoky gas erupted from the end of her wand. Lauren gasped, excitement and surprise filling her, but that silvery cloud dissipated just as soon as it had appeared.

“Concentrate harder on that memory,” Snape instructed.

Lauren gave a nod of her head, recalling how she had doubled over in laughter as Snape had petulantly stated that it had not been funny. She concentrated on that exact sense of giddy happiness that had encompassed in that moment.

“_Expecto Patronum!_” she shouted again.

Again, another wispy cloud erupted from the end of her wand, hovering in the air for but a moment before it slowly vanished into nothingness. Lauren lowered her wand, feeling decidedly disappointed.

“Maybe try another memory. A stronger one this time,” Snape suggested as he started to languidly pace the room.

Lauren chewed her bottom lip as she wracked her brain for something else that filled her with happiness. She recalled the first time Snape had shown her how to bring her magic forth when they had brewed a potion together. That feeling of realizing that, for the first time in her life, not only was she accomplishing something but had found out that she had a knack for Potion brewing filled her with a sense of contentment and belonging. It was a different kind of happiness, but no less fulfilling. Having gone so long in her life feeling like an utter failure, and then finding out she had potential was a feeling like no other.

Lauren held onto that memory and tried casting the incantation again.

This time the silvery smoke hovered in the air, swirling and folding in on itself as it tried to solidify. Lauren’s hand trembled with the effort of concentrating on that feeling and keeping to spell active, but it was proving to be exhausting. The mass shimmered and twisted in front of her and then instantly vanished.

Lauren dropped her arm and panted as she doubled over, clutching her knees for support.

“Is it supposed to be that tiring?” she asked.

“In the beginning, yes. It is an advanced Charm and, as such, requires more effort and skill to effectively cast it. Not to mention a stronger memory.”

Lauren lifted her head, her gaze locking with his. “Which memory do you use?”

The effect was instantaneous, Snape immediately shuttering down his impenetrable walls as he sneered back at her. “That is none of your business, Miss Ward.”

Lauren straightened up, fighting down the impulsive jealousy that had reared up at the conclusion that Snape’s happy memory was Lily. And there was no way she could compete with that, for Lily would always be remembered as perfect in his eyes.

“Fine. Sorry I asked,” she stated, trying to hide the petulance in her voice as she smoothed down her school robe, refusing to meet his gaze. He would surely see the jealousy lurking there. Lauren knew she was being childish by being jealous of someone long dead, and she fought to tamper down those feelings. “Could you perhaps show me your Patronus then?” she asked instead.

A few seconds passed and she thought Snape was going to outright refuse. But then he slowly withdrew his wand from the sleeve of his robe. Lauren watched as he lifted his wand and, in a mesmerisizing and elegant hand movement, swept his wand in an arc and uttered the incantation.

A silvery doe erupted from the end of his wand, prancing around the room before she came to stand before them. Lauren stared in wide-eyed wonder at the wondrous creature his Patronus had taken on, so beautiful and serene as it stood there, a shimmering silver form of protectiveness. She glanced at Snape and then back at the Patronus, wondering how such a docile and soft natured creature could be conjured by a sometimes cruel and sadistic man.

_There is inherent good inside Severus Snape,_ she reminded herself. _He has many good qualities, as well as bad._ _Snape is a grey area. One cannot paint him in black and white. He is a multi faceted character, with ranges of emotions and feelings that run far deeper than one could ever know..._

“She’s beautiful,” Lauren murmured.

Snape had been standing there, silently watching his Patronus with eyes that betrayed his grief, and in that instant Lauren’s heart went out to him.

_He’s held onto his love for Lily for so long. His Patronus is a testament to that love..._

Snape flicked his wand sharply and the Patronus disappeared instantly.

“Try again,” he instructed, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But the fact that he refused to meet her gaze spoke volumes about his current mindset.

Lauren took her cue from him and decided to carry on as normal. She spent the good part of the next hour trying every conceivable memory she could think of, all yielding the same result of a semi-solid mass that refused to form into a full fledged Patronus.

Lauren leaned against the cold stone wall, all her energy spent and her frustration levels reaching an all time high.

“This is impossible,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “None of my memories are exactly happy enough.”

Snape cupped his cheek with his left hand, his elbow cradled in his right hand as he studied her thoughtfully. “Maybe try concentrating on a feeling instead of a memory. Often times our emotions are stronger than a mere thought or a distant memory.”

Lauren glanced at the floor, thinking. Sudden nervousness enveloped her,for she knew exactly which emotions were strong enough for this. She knew she could no longer deny her feelings for Snape, but had no choice but to keep them secret from him. But those euphoric emotions she experienced each time they shared a look, or each time she caught the familiar scent of parchment and herbs that she associated with him, could not be denied. Nor could she deny the tingling warmth that seeped right through to her core every time he entered a room.

_This goddamn crush is going to kill me, _she thought to herself. _Oh, who am I kidding. This has progressed way beyond a crush. These feelings are entirely different. More deep rooted __than I care to admit..._

Lauren could not meet his gaze as she slowly pushed away from the wall and came to stand in the middle of the room. Her throat felt suddenly dry, dread filling her as she feared that Snape would come to the correct conclusion as to what emotions she was holding on to. She could not afford for him to know, for that would really push him away altogether. Right now, after almost two years of fighting, he had agreed on a friendship of sorts. Any hints of anything else would not settle well with him and ultimately drive him away.

“Ready?” she heard him ask.

Lauren gave a stiff nod of her head, still not meeting his gaze as she stared hard at a spot on the stone floor.

“Then get on with it. I don’t have all day!” he snapped impatiently.

Lauren closed her eyes and let those forbidden feelings and emotions envelope her, that light euphoric tingling sensation course through her veins and making her heart skip and flutter as it usually did when she was in his presence.

_I am so doomed._

Lauren let out the breath she was holding and slowly opened her eyes, raising her wand.

“_Expecto Patronum!”_

A brilliant, almost blinding flash of silver erupted from her wand and she instinctively stepped back. The silvery mass twisted and turned in the air, and then slowly morphed into a solid shape.

A stunned silence followed, and then Snape’s deep rich voice filled the echoingly silent room, causing Lauren to shiver involuntarily.

“Interesting.”

Lauren blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

In front of her sat a sleek panther Patronus, its pointed ears erect and its long tail curled elegantly beside it as it stared back proudly at her. Powerful muscles gleamed under its sleek and lithe form, foretelling that this creatures, though beautiful in all its elegance, was powerful and dangerous.

_I did it! I actually did it! And bloody hell, my Patronus is a beauty if I don’t say so myself._

Lauren’s face split into a wide grin as she stared back at her panther, a feeling of elation consuming her entirely.

“And I would also say appropriate,” Snape continued.

Lauren tore her gaze away from her Patronus. “Why do you say that?”

Snape pushed away from the wall and made his way to one of the bookshelves. His eyes narrowed as they skimmed the array of books before him and then he raised his hand and snatched up a book. Holding it flat in the palm of his hand, he opened it and flipped through the pages, finally stopping at one.

“A panther Patronus is often associated with highly intuitive witches and wizards, though their aggressive natures often get the better of them.” Snape gave her a pointed look at this statement before continuing. “These witches or wizards are capable of immense power, but are often solidary people. You hold such attributes, Miss Ward.” Snape snapped the book shut and turned his gaze towards her Patronus, and she could almost detect a certain sense of pride emanating from him.

Lauren nodded to herself, her eyes drawn once more to the mesmerizing sight before her. She had been half afraid that her patronus would take on the form of a doe and thus give away her true feelings for the Potion Master. She more she stared at her panther, though, the more she realized that it was a reflection of her.

“I like it,” she affirmed.

“Which memory or feeling did you focus on?” Snape suddenly asked.

Her heart gave a lurch in her chest and she flicked her wand, making her patronus disappear immediately.

_Oh shit. He’s going to find out!_

“In your own words, Professor Snape, that is none of your business,” she stated grudgingly as she made a show of resheathing her wand, her cheeks burning with the blush that had formed on them as she avoided his penetrating gaze.

Snape was silent for a few beats. “It must have been a very strong emotion to form such a powerful patronus.”

Lauren didn’t deign to reply, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she feared he would put two and two together.

“Are we done?” she deflected.

Snape’s gaze bore into hers and Lauren resisted squirming under his scrutiny. Finally Snape glanced away and stated, “Yes, we’re done.”

Lauren felt immense relief that he had decided to drop it and hastily made her way to the door.

“Miss Ward?”

She paused and glanced back at Snape, holding her breath as she waited for him to continue.

“You did exceptionally well today.”

Lauren was stunned by the rare compliment. “Thank you. And...thank you for teaching me.”

Snape gave a single nod of his head. “Though, truth be told, I was expecting your Patronus to take on another form.”

“Oh? What form were you expecting?”

“Perhaps a Cornish Pixie. Annoying and highly skilled at being tormentors. In other words, a true reflection of yourself,” he stated smoothly, the corners of his lips twitched as he tried to suppress his smirk.

“Arse,” Lauren mutteredbefore flipping him the middle finger and flouncing out of the room, though there was very little heat to her actions. This was how she and Snape usually bantered, and she felt a sense of relief that things were returning back to normal between them. She thought she heard his soft laughter follow behind her, caressing along her skin.

_Complete and utter arse! s_he thought with a smile plastered on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review, fave and follow :)


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